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LIVES OF THE HEROES 



AMERICAN EEVOLUTION: 



COMIRISING 



I THE LIVES OF WASHINGTON AND HIS GENERALS 

^ AND OFFICERS WHO WERE THE MOST DIS 

'^ TINGUISHED IN THE WAR OF THE IN- 

< DEPENDENCE OF THE U. S. A. ; 

^ ALSO — EMBRACINa 

l THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE 

i AND signers' names; 

\ THE COrJSTITUTION OF THE UINITEO STATES 

'? , AND AMENDMENTS J 

;! 

<, TOGETHER WITH THE INAUGURAL, FIRST ANNUAL 

j AND FAREWELL ADFiRE^SSES CF WASHINGTON. 



!; EmbellisjjEO tDitS l9ortrait». 



<: PHILADELPHIA : 

I G. G. EVANS, PUBLISHER, 

\ No. 439 CHESTNUT STREET, 

1860. 






I, 

s 



Sntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, fcy c 

G. G. EVANS, ^ 

In the Clerk's OfiSce of the District Court for the Eastern *" 

District of Pennsylvania. ,• 

I 






CONTENTS. • 



I ""'' 



Ethan Allen - - - - 115 



S i 



I 



> LIVESOF OFFICE i., ,. < 

\ vg» '< 

\ George Washington - - 7 J 

\ Nathaniel Greene - - " a^ 27 J 

I Daniel Morgan - 76 i 

j John Stark 90 > 

< Hush Mercer - - - - 106 ^ 



^ John Cadwalader - - - - 126 j 

I Thomas Conway - - - 130 > 

I 



VVm. Richardson Davie - - 134 < 

^ Christopher Gadsden 142 \ 

J) ? 

< Horatio Gates - - - 151 i 

> > 
:1 Nathan Hale . - - 173 ^ 

^ Isaac Hayne ----- 179 ^ 

> V i 



\ri 



CONTENTS. 



Charles Lee 
John Sullivan 
Joseph Warren 
John Laurens 
Thomas Mifflin 
Gilbert Mottier Lafayette 
Declaration of Independence 
Constitution of the United States 
Amendments to the Constitution 
Washington's Inaugural Address - 
Washington's First Annual Address 
Washington's Farewell Address 



Pas9 

184 
201 
208 
231 
239 
241 
286 
295 
318 
324 
332 
339 



> I 



i 

\ THE 



HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION 



\ GEORGE WASHINGTON. \ 

\ \ 

S George Washington was born on the 22d j 

''. of February, 1732, on the banks of the river 

'i Potomac, in Virginia. His father dying when 

J he was ten years old, he received a plain but 

\ useful education at the hands of his mother. <^ 

> He soon manifested a serious and contemplative ^ 

\ disposition, and in his thirteenth year drew up ^ 

'i a code of regulations for his own guidance, in \ 

\ which the germs are visible of those high prin- j 

'"; ciples which regulated his conduct in mature ^ 

s life. As a boy, he conceived a liking for the J 

\ naval service, but, being dissuaded from this, ^ 

\ he qualified himself for the occupation of a j 

\ land-surveyor; and, at the age of eighteen, ^^ 

obtained, through his relation, Lord Fairfax, ^ 

\ the office of Surveyor of the Western District ;. 

\ of Virginia. This introduced him to the notice j 

\ of Governor Dinwiddie, and in the following \ 

\ I 



8 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



year he was appointed one of the Adjutant- 



s' Generals of Virginia, with the duty of training J 

i the militia. s' 

s 

s 

> 



j The boundaries of the Britisn and French pos- 

i sessions in America were at that time subjects 

^ of dispute. In 1753 Washington was sent on (' 

s a mission to the French settlement on the Ohio, ^ 

J which he executed successfully ;. and on his ^ 

^ return published a journal of his route, whicli J 

^ attracted much notice. In the following year J 

'> he was less fortunate, being taken prisoner with < 



^ his party, while in command of an expedition ^ 



^ against the French. Being allowed to return ■' 

\ home, he withdrew from the service, and went 



to reside at Mount Vernon, an estate which des- \ 

cended to him on the death of an elder brother. \ 

In 1755 he accepted the rank of Aide-de-camp '^ 

to General Braddock, and was present at the \ 

surprise of the British in the woods near the \ 

\ 



Monongahela, where his coolness, com-age, and 
knowledge of Indian warfare, chiefly contrib- 
uted to the preservation of a handful of the \ 
troops. He escaped unhurt, but had three horses ! 
killed under him, and his dress was four times J 
pierced with rifle-balls. Having gained much \ 
credit by his conduct on this occasion, Washing- ; 
ton was next employed to defend the westeri: ;. 



WASHINGTON. 9 <^ 

i 

frontier against the incursions of the French > 

and Indians. He concluded this harassino; ser- J 

vice at the end of four years, by reducing Fori j 

du Quesne, and driving the French beyond the \ 

Ohio ; and then resigned his commission. ;, 

After his return to Mount Vernon, in 1759, ^ 

Washington married ; and during the next four- \ 

teen years his time was divided between his 
duties as a member of the Colonial Assembly 
and agricultural pursuits, in which he took great 
interest. The disputes which preceded the Re- 
volution again drew him from private life. He 
maintained that the Americans were entitled to 
all the rights of British subjects, and could not be 
taxed by a legislature in which they were not 
represented ; and he recommended that, on the 



\ recourse should be had to arms. In 1774 the 



. failure of peaceful and constitutional resistance, \ 

s 
J' 



s command of the troops raised by Virginia was 

J , given to him ; and in 1775 he represented that \ 

^ State in the Convention held at Philadelphia. J 

'' When the war beo;an, Washinorton was chosen J* 

s Commander-in-Chief of the American Army; > 

ij an office which he accepted without remunera- ^ 

s tion, saying, that emolument would not have i^ 

\ tempted him to forego the pleasures of private \ 

\ life, and that he should only require to have his \ 



1 



;! 10 HEKOES OF TIIE REVOLUTION. j 

\ expenses reimbursed. His private letters have ^ 

^ since proved that his object, at that time, was ^ 

j not to procure separation from England; but j 

j his alacrity in entering into the contest, and his \ 

^ constancy throughout its continuance, refute > 

5 the insinuation, only countenanced by certain j 

J forged letters, that he was not hearty in the ;! 

■J cause of independence. ^ 

I; About fourteen thousand people were at this s 

J time collected around Boston, where General '< 

^ Gage was held in a state of siege. Washington ^ 

> reached the colonial camp in July, 1775, and > 

i proceeded to give to the assembled multitude I; 

s the form and discipline of a regular force. His i| 

■1 next endeavours were to extend the period for ^ 

'< which men enlisting were obliged to serve, and J 

i to ensure the maintenance of the troops by < 

? appointing a Commissary-General to collect ? 

\ supplies, instead of depending for them on the 1; 

J> voluntary and uncertain contributions of the > 

J several States. Neither of these wishes was I 

complied with, and the want of every requisite 5 

obliged Washington to change the siege into a j 

blockade, until the following March, when, >; 

liaving obtained artillery and engineers, he { 

J forced the English to give up the town and > 

I embark on board their fleet. His conduct during ^ 



WASmXCTON. 11 

this siege is admirable, both for the resolution 

s with which he maintained the Dlockade with 

I an inferior army composed of untried men, and 

< tht patience with which he endured the re- 

< proaches of the people, to whom the real diffi- 
'/ culties of his situation, with respect to arms 
^ and ammunition, could not be disclosed. He 
;! also established the principle, that captured 
5 Americans should be treated as prisoners of war. 
i In April, 1776, Washington anticipated 

the British in occupying New York, and the 
adjacent islands. Before the arrival of 
Lord Howe, in July, independence was pro- 
claimed J and the American general refused to 
s negotiate unless acknowledged as the function- 

> ary of an independent government, saying, that 
i America, being her own mistress, and having 
\ committed no fault, needed no pardon. A 

> severe defeat on Long Island, and subsequent 
j losses, compelled him to abandon the State of 
I New York to the English, to retreat with great 

loss through New Jersey, and to take shelter 
behind the Delaware, near Philadelphia. He 
showed much skill in preventing the British 
from taking advantage of these reverses, which 
he sought to repair by surprising their posts at 
Trenton and Princetown, in Jersey, where he 



12 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



made many hundred prisoners. These successes 

were well timed, and revived the broken spirit 

of the country. 

In 1777 Washington applied to Congress for > 

more extensive powers, which were granted 
J him, with the title of Dictator, by which he 

\ was empowered to act on his own responsibility > 

i m all military affairs. But he was not supplied 

J with the means of acting effectually ; and the ? 

? campaign of that year was one of misfortunes, > 

^ the Americans being defeated at Brandy wine, ^ 

s and forced to yield Philadelphia to the English.. \ 

;! During the winter months Washington occupied \ 

<■', a fortified camp at Valley Forge, and his army, .; 

ij ill-supplied with ammunition and provisions, > 

'/ was daily in danger of being destroyed by J 

\ hunger or the enemy. He freely expressed his ) 

;> opinion to Congress of their misconduct, and ;, 

) his remarks occasioned a faction which desired \ 

I to displace him from his command, and to I; 

I substitute General Gates j but this was never J 

i seriously attempted. \ 

\ The campaign of 1778 was favourable to s 

,5 Washington; he recovered Philadelphia, and l 

;« following Clinton in his retreat through New- J 

\ Jersey, brought him to action at Monmoutlie 

J The issue of this engagement gave new conii- 



\ 

s 

\ 
'{ 



WASHINGTON. 13 J 

dence to the people, and completely restored \ 

i him to the good will of Congress. During the -,' 

J years 1779 and 1780 the war was actively \ 

I carried on in the South, and Carolina and \ 

j Virginia were reduced by the British. In the > 

\ autumn of 1780 Major Andre, who had been \ 

\ sent by Clinton to concert with Arnold measures ^ 

\ for betraying the post at West Point, was seized -! 

! within the American lines, and tried and hanged J 

j as a spy. Whatever were the merits or mis- ^ 

\ fortunes of the British officer, the duty of J; 

I Washington was too plain to be mistaken, and ;| 

5 the obloquy he incurred in its performance ij 

I was undeserved. s 

> Washin2;ton had throughout contended that < 

\ the country could only be delivered by raising J; 

\ a permanent army, and consoUdating the union ^ 

i of the States, so as to form a vigorous govern- f; 

i, ment. Five years' experience had taught ;i 

I Congress the inefficiency of temporary armies, ^ 

^f and they resolved to form a permanent one with ^ 

j a system of half-pay and pensions, as an in- s' 

J diicement to enter the service. But as the ^ 

;; government of each State was empowered to j; 

J levy its own taxes, and conduct ail the m-ea- J 

J sures for carrying this resolve into effect, such j 

^ delay was occasioned, that although Count \ 

1 ^„. ^ 



? I4f HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. S 

{ Rochambeau arrived from France in August, ^, 

\ 1780, with an auxiliary force of iive thousand J 

J men, the American army could not actively / 

<) co-operate with him during that year. J 

> The temporising policy pursued by the States ;. 
\ had severely tried the constancy of Washing- >! 
5 ton, but did not lead him to despair of final J 
I success. The army, suffering extreme want, i 
•', was kept in the field chiefly by attachment to ,; 
'1 his person. Attentive to alleviate their hard- \ 
J ships, he did not permit any disorderly license ; \ 
i and although early in 1781 he allowed Congress J 

> to pacify the revolted troops, he, on a second J 
^ occasion, shortly after, forcibly compelled the s 
\ mutineers to submit, and summarily tried and ^ 

executed many of them. ^ 

The pecuniary aid of France, and increased J; 

activity of the American Government, enabled )> 



5 the summer of 1781. Earl Cornwallis, then 

J- in Virginia, and but feebly opposed by La- 

^ Fayette, sent a part of his army to strengthen 

j Clinton in New York. Shortly after De Grasse 



junctuie to transfer the war to the South. 
Deceiving Clinton as to his real design, ho 



s Washington to resume offensive measures in ^ 



5 arrived off the coast of Virginia with a French 'J 

i fleet. Washino-ton took advantage of this con- \ 






WASHINGTON. 1 5 



marched rapidly through New Jersey and I' 



Maryland, and, embarking his army on the 

Chesapeake, effected a junction at Williamsburg \ 

with La Fayette. By the combined operation i 

of their forces, assisted by the fleet under De <! 

Grasse, Lord Cornwallis was compelled to J 

I surrender at York Town, with his whole force, \ 

j October 19, after a siege of thirteen days. J 

J This event decided the war ; but Washington ;• 

< remained watchful to preserve the advantages I 

s gained, and to provide for future contingencies, J 

'_; until 1783, when a general peace was I 

J concluded. i 

J Washington then prepared to resume his J 

,'; station as a private citizen. The army had J 

;> become disaffected towards the States, and ap 

) peared not unwilling to subvert the freedom of 



\ their country, if the general had sought his ^ 

} own aggrandisement. But he nobly rejected ^ 

i all such schemes, and persuaded the soldiers to J 

J return home, and trust to the assurance, of Con- j' 

? gress for the discharge of the arrears due to ^' 

\ them. Having publicly taken leave of his j 

^ officers, he repaired to Annapolis, and December ^ 

j 23, 1783, appeared in Congress, and resigned J 

J his commission. He also presented the account j 

'i of his receipts and expenditure during the lata 



16 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

war, the items of which were entered in his 
J own handwriting. His expenditure amounted 

I to £19,306, and it subsequently appeared that '< 

I he had applied considerable sums of his own ^ 

;; to the public service, which he neglected to I; 

I 



\ claim. He asked no favour or reward for 

] himself, except that his letters should be free 

> from postage, but he strongly recommended to ;. 

J Congress the claims of his late arm.y. ;! 

J Havino; delivered a farewell address to Con- s 

< gress, and forwarded one of a like character to ^ 

' the government of each State, pointing out the 



. ^ ,, ^ J, _„ -„, ^ 

;; advantages they at present possessed, and giving \ 

.^ his advice as to the future conduct of their ^ 

^ affairs, he retired to Mount V*ernon to enjoy the ^ 

\ pleasures of private life. But although the J 

'^ next two years were passed in retirement, the ;; 

J mind of Washington was actively directed to i 

j public affairs. Beside maintaining a correspon- i 

'^ dence with the most eminent men, as well in ? 

J Europe as in his own country, he was engaged > 

5 in various projects to promote the agricultural \ 

s and commercial interests of his native State. J 

J Under his direction, companies were formed to i 

;, improve the navigation of the rivers James and j 

J Potomac, thus making Virginia the trading mart { 

f of the Western States. A number of shares i 






j WASHINGTON. 17 j 

\ in the James River Company, which were pre- ■; 

J- sented to him in 1785 by the legislature of \ 

^ Virginia, he employed in founding the college / 

I in Virginia, now called by his name. His 5 

J deference to the popular feelings and prejudices s 

s on the subject of liberty was shown in his \ 

'.• conduct with regard to the Cincinnati, a military s 

^ society of which he was president, instituted >, 

^ to commemorate the occurrences of the late !; 

J war. An outcry was raised that the honours ;; 

i conferred by this society being hereditary, a ^ 

5 titled order would be created in the State. 'j 



Washington therefore prevailed on the members 
? to annul the offensive resulations, and to ascree ■', 



that the society should cease at the termination s 

^ of their lives. ^ 

s The want of union amono^st the States, and ^ 

J; . . ^ 

^ the incapacity of the government, engaged the ^ 

i attention of every able man in America, and J 

^ more especially interested Washington, who ;! 

\ desired to witness the establishment of a g-reat i 

? ... f 

J republie. The principal defect of the existing f 

\ government was, that no acts of Congress in \ 

j forming commercial treaties, borrowing money, j 

\ or introducing national regulations, were J 

^ binding on the individual States, each of which \ 

^ pursued its own interests, without showing anj^ J 



J 



18 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION, 



J disposition to redeem the engagements of the j 

^ government with the public creditors, either at I 

j home 01 abroad. Washington's prmciples were \ 

I democratic ; but he was opposed to those who ? 

^i contended for the absolute independence of the Ij 

s individual States, being^ convinced that each \ 

\ must sacrifice a portion of its liberty for the \ 

\ security of the whole, and that, without an ^ 

\ energetic central government, the confederation \ 

\ would be insignificant. His representations to .; 

\ the Congress and the individual States, backed > 

^ by the increasing distress of the country, at ;! 

•I length brought about the Convention of Phila- |. 

\ delphia, which met in May, 1787, and having X 

s' chosen Washington president, continued sitting \ 

i until September, when the federal constitution ^ 

\ was finally decided on, and was submitted to i' 

;> the States for their approval. 1^ 

\ Having acquitted himself of this duty, Wash- \ 

\ ington retired to private life until March, 1789, \ 

5 when he was elected President of the United 

j States. He had used no exertion to obtain this 

s distinction, which his impaired health and love 

\ of retirement rendered unsuitable to him : he, 

1; however, accepted it, and his journey to New 

\ York was one continued triumph. April 30, 

;! be took the oaths prescribed by the constitution, 









j WASHINGTON. 1 9 

i and delivered his inaugural address, in which 

J he dwelt most fully on his own reasons for / 

\ again entering on public life, and on the duties \ 

^ incumbent upon members of the Congress. j 

< He declared that he would receive no remune- s 

^ ration for his services, and required that a < 

\ stated sum should be allowed for defraying the \ 

\ expenses of his office. \ 

^ The President of the Union being a new $ 

'^ political personage, it became requisite to ,j 

5 establish certain observances of etiquette ^ 

\ towards him. Washino-ton's arrano;emen1a in 

this respect were sufficiently simple, yet they \ 

',> excited jealousy, as savouriny; of regal and < 

."J courtly customs. The restriction placed on J 

;. the admission of idle visiters, who hourly in- > 



truded on him, caused much offence, and be- 



J being apparent in the increasing prosperity of 



came the subject of remonstrance, even from I 

intelligent men. J 
One of the first acts of Washington's ad- , < 

ministration was to empower the legislature to \ 

become responsible for the general debt of the { 

States, and to levy taxes for the punctual \ 

discharge of the interest upo*: it. The opera- '> 

tion of the new government was in every ;' 

respect satisfactory, its beneficial influence \ 



j 20 HEROES OF TfiE REVOLUTION. J 

) the country ; and before the end of the second ^ 



year's presidency, Rhode Island and North 

Carolina, which at first were dissentient, desired | 

to participate in the benefits of the Union, and '} 

were admitted as members. In 1790 Wash- < 

ington concluded a treaty with the hostile < 

Indians on the Southern frontier ; but the war i 

which he directed against the Indians on the \ 

North Western frontier was unfortunate, the j 

American forces sustaining three severe defeats s 

> Upon the whole, however, the period of his s 

i first presidency passed over prosperously and j 

) tranquilly. He was annoyed by occasional J 

J differences in his cabinet, and by the discontent \ 

! of the anti-federal party ; but being supported I 

\ by John Adams, Hamilton, and other able men, ^ 

< his government suffered no real embarrassment. 5 
\ In 1792, as he possessed the general confi- 

\ dence of the people, he was unanimously re- <J 

< elected President; and in- March, 1793, again i, 
\ took the oaths of office. The French E,evolu- ^ 
\ tion was hailed with joy by the Americans, \ 
\ among whom an almost universal wish pre- ;.' 
J vailed to assist in establishing, as they thought, 
\ true freedom in Europe. But Washington per« 
J ceived that the real interests of his countr} 
j required peace. He acknowledged the govern 



WASHINGTON. 2l 



of M. Genet, envoy from Paris, privateers 
were armed in the American ports, and sent 
to cruise against the British. Washington 
promptly suppressed this practice; and the 
conduct of Genet having been intemperate and 
insolent towards the President, and calculated 



^ ment of the French Republic, and sent an am j 

<; bassador to Paris ; but declared his resolution j 

J to adopt a strict neutrality in the contest be- ) 

i tween France and the allied powers of Europe. j 

;• Still the enthusiasm in favour of the French j 

5 continued to increase ; and, at the instigation ? 



s 

i 
I 

s 

I 

^ to produce serious disturbance in the States, he 

J took the requisite steps for having him recalled. 

i The determination of the President to pre- 

J serve peace was not the only ground of pop- 

;- ular discontent. The imposition of excise 

;! taxes, as they were termed by the people, 

< excited serious murmurings; and, in 1794", a j 

^ general rising took place in Pennsylvania, i 

\ which was put down without bloodshed by a J 

!> vigorous display of force, and the principals, \ 

\ after being condemned to death, were pardoned. > 

I The ferment among the people made a war ^ 

s with England seemingly unavoidable. Wash- ) 

j; ington, at this juncture, appointed Mr. Jay j 

j envoy to England, with full powers to conclude ') 

\ I 



22 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



a treaty, in which all points then at issue he 
tween the two nations should be adjusted. 



With the concurrence of the Senate he ratified ) 

s 



J this treaty, regardless of the outcry raised 

^ against it ; and subsequently upheld the au- s 

.' thority of the President, in refusing to permit I 

> the House of Representatives to revise the i 

^ articles it contained. The people soon per- J 

^ ceived that the advantages to be derived froir > 

§ the contentions in Europe made it impolitic for ;; 

^ their own country to become a party to them, ;I 

1; and confidence and good will towards the < 



President were in a great measure restored. '< 

These favourable dispositions were confirmed ^ 

by the termination of a successful war against ^ 

the Indians, and by a treaty with Spain, by \ 

which the navigation of the Mississippi to the i 

Ocean was secured to the Americans. s 

Among the acts which immediately proceed- <, 

ed from Washington during his presidency, >. 

were those for forming a fund to pay off the I 

national debt, and lor organising the militia of ) 

the country. He was active and sssiduous in J 

his duties as chief magistrate, making tours ^ 

through the States, and ascertaining the pro- ;,' 

gressive improvement in each, and the means ^ 

which would most tend to increase it. The { 



WASHINGTON. 



23 



limited powers conferred on the President pre \ 

vented his effecting so much as he desired, and j 

the public measures originating from him were j 

but few. He declinei being nominated a third j 

time to the office of President, and on his re- < 

tirement published an address to the people of j 

the United States, in which, after remarking J, 

on the condition and prospects of the country, '-I 

he in:.isted on the necessity of cementing the J 

union of the States, and upholding the su- \ 

premacy of the Federal Government; he also ;; 

advised them never to admit the influence of ;! 

foreign powers, and to reap benefi.t from the \ 

\ quarrels amongst the States of Europe, by re- J 

;. maining at peace with all. ^ 

< Washington passed the rest of his days at i 

\ Mount Vernon, engaged in the society of his J 

;; friek_l3, and in the improvement of his estate. J- 
He was for several ^^ears a member of the 



British Agricultural Association ; and the efforts ^ 

^ he made to form a similar society in America, J, 



and his letters to Sir John Sinclair, (a fac-simiie J 

copy of which is deposited in the British J 

Museum,) show the interest he took in agri- { 

cultural affairs. He died December 13, 1799, j 
in his sixty-eighth year, after a few days' ill- 
ness, and was buried at Mount Vernon. He 






24« HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

left no family. Congress suspended its sitting 
on receiving the intelligence of his death, and 
a public mourning was ordered for him. 

In person, Washington was robust, and above 
the middle height. He was thoughtful and 



> reserved, without being repulsive; and his 



? manners were those of the old school of 

> English gentlemen. Although mild and hu- 
;; mane, he was stern in the performance of duty, 
< and never, upon such occasions, yielded to 
s' softness or compassion. His speeches and 
J official letters are simple and earnest, but 
^ wanting perhaps in that conciseness, which 
^ marks vigour of thought. Whilst President, 
I he was assailed by the violence of party spirit. 
^ On his decease his worth was justly appreciatedj 

> and the sorrow at his loss was universal and 
^ sincere. Washington was distinguished less 
\ by the brilliancy of his talents than by his 
I moral goodness, sound judgment, and plain but 
;. excellent understanding. His admirable use of 
^ those sterling, though homely qualities has 
: gained a rank for him among the greatest and 
L best of men ; and his name will be coexistent, 
? as ii was coeval, with that of the empire, of 

which, no less by his rare civil wisdom than 



WASHINGTON. "5 



his eminent military talents, he may b« 

considered the founder. 

,' The virtues which distinguish him from all 

\ others who have united the fame of statesman 

' and captain, were two-fold, and they are as 

j great as they are rare. He refused power 

which his own merit had placed within his 

\ reach, constantly persisting in the preference 

^ of a republican to a monarchial form of govern- 

\ ment, as the most congenial to liberty when it 

I is not incompatible with the habits of the 

i people and the circumstances of society ; and 

^ he even declined to continue longer than his 

I years seemed to permit at the head of that 

\ commonwealth which he had founded. This 

\ subjugation of all ambitious feelings to the 

'; paramount sense of duty is his first excellence ; 

I it is the sacrifice of his own aggrandisement to 

I his country's freedom. The next is like unto 

\ it ; his constant love of peace when placed at 

ii the head of affairs : this was the sacrifice of 

\ the worthless glory which ordinary men prize 

>. the most, to the tranquillity and happiness of 

\ mankind. Wherefore to all ages and in all 

^ climes, they who most love public virtue will 

'? hold in eternal remembrance the name of 



£6 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. J 

George Washington ; never pronouncing it but J 

with gratitude and awe, as designating a mortal < 

removed above the ordinary lot of human \ 

/railty. I 

The words of his last will in bequeathing 1; 

his sword to his nephews — the sword which J 

he had worn in the sacred war of liberty — < 

ought to be graven in letters of gold over every ^ 

palace in the world : " This sword they shall < 

never draw but in defence of freedom, or of < 

their country, or of their kindred ; and when ? 

thus drawn, they shall prefer falling with it in \ 
their hands to the relinquishment thereof." 



< works of Ramsay and Marshall; and to the 

^ Correspondence of Washington, published by 

J' Mr. Sparkes. 



For farther information we refer to the ;, 



NATriANlEL GREENE, 

Major-Gkneral in the American Army. 



< General Greene, although descended from \ 

< ancestors of elevated standing, was not indebted '^ 
\ to the condition of his family for any part of •<; 



the real lustre and reputation he possessed. 
He was literally the founder of his own fortune, 
and the author of his own fame. He was the \ 



i nothing but the elements of a common English 



\ second son of Nathaniel Greene, a member of ^ 

) the society of Friends, an anchor-smith. ^ 

j He was born in the year 1741, in the town J- 

J of Warwick, and county of Kent, in the ^ 

\ province of Rhode Island. Being intended by [^ 

\ his father for the business which he himself ;, 

'i pursued, young Greene received at school (^ 



education. But to him, an education so limited \ 

\ was unsatisfactory. With such funds as he \ 

s was able to raise, he purchased a small, but J 

\ well-selected library, and spent his evenings, } 

\ and all the time he could redeem from his ^ 

father's business, in regular study. \ 

At a period of life unusually early, Greene ;; 

was elevated, by a very flattering suffrage, to a \ 
\ 27 



28 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



^ seat in the legislature of his native colony, / 

> This was the commencement of a public \ 

I career, which, heightening as it advanced, and j 

I flourishing in the midst of difficulties, closed j 

i with a lustre that was peculiarly dazzling. J 

'<• Thus introduced into the councils of his j 

I; country, at a time when the rights of the \ 

.; subject, and the powers of the ruler, were > 

J beginning to be topics of liberal discussion, he \ 

s felt it his duty to avow his sentiments on the s 

< momentous question. Nor did he pause or J 
I waver, as to the principles he should adopt, < 
^ and the decision he should form. He was in- s 
i flexibly opposed to tyranny and oppression in ^ 
j every shape, and manfully avowed it. But his J 
^ character, although forming, was not com- > 
\ pletely developed until the commencement of ^> 
S the troubles which terminated in our independ- ^ 
f. ence. It was then that he aspired to a head in J 
f the public councils ; and throwing from him, ^ 
I as unsuitable to the times, the peaceful habits J 
5 in which he had been educated, sternly declared > 

for a redress of grievances, or open resistance. \ 

j This open departure from the sectarian prin- ! 

< ciples in which he had been educated, was s 
! followed, ol" coui-se, by his immediate dismission < 

from the society of Friends. j 






NATHANIEL GREENE. 29 < 

The sword was earliest unsheathed in thfe - j; 

colony of Massachusetts ; and on the plains of j 

Lexington and Concord, the blood of British \ 

soldiers and American subjects mingled first in J 

hostile strife. Nor was Rhode Island, after < 

that sanguinary affair, behind her sister colonies, J 

in gallantry of spirit and promptitude of i, 

preparation. < 

Greene commenced his military pupilage in \ 

the capacity of a private soldier, in October, 1; 

1774, in a military association, commanded by '> 

I ■ James M. Varnum, afterward brigadier-general. J 
5 But Rhode Island having, in the month of May, 
^ 1775, raised three regiments of militia, she 
i placed them under the command of Greene, 
\ who, without loss of time, conducted them to 

\ head-quarters, in the village of Cambridge. ^ 

I On the 2d of July, 1775, General Wash- < 

I ington, invested by Congress with the command < 

J in chief of the armies of his country, arrived ;; 

'■', at Boston. Greene availed himself of an early ^ 

-I opportunity, amid the public demonstration of J 

^ joy, to welcome the commander-in-chief, in a J 

$ personal address, in which, with much warmth ^ 

i of feeling and kindness of expression, he > 

^ avowed his attachment to his person, and the < 

J high gratification he derived from the prospect s 



r 



30 HEROES OF TIIE DEVOLUTION. 

of being associated with him in arms, and 
serving under him in defence of the violated 
rights of his country. 

This was a happy prelude to a friendship 
between these two great and illustrious officers, 
whifeli death alone had the power to dissolve. 
It is a fact of notoriety, that when time and 
acquaintance had made him thoroughly ac- 
quainted with the character and merits of 
General Greene, Washington entertained, and 
frequently expressed, an anxious wish, that in 
case of his death he might be appointed his 
successor to the supreme command. 

During the investment of Boston hj the 
American forces, a state of things which lasted 
for months, no opportunity presented itself to 
Greene to acquire distinction by personal 
exploit. But his love of action, and spirit of 
adventure, were strongly manifested ; for he 
was one of the few officers of rank who con- \ 

curred with General Washington in the pro- j 

priety of attempting to carry the town by I 

assault. ] 

On the evacuation of Boston by the British, ^ 

the American troops were permitted to repose ^ 

from their toils, and to exchange, for a time, J 

the hardships and privations of a field encamp- | 



j NATHANIEL GREENE. 31 j 

j men! for the enjoyment of plenty in comfort- j 

^ able barracks. During this period of relaxation, j 



^ Greene continued with unabating industry his j 

military studies, and as far as opportunity I 

served, his attention to the practical duties of J 

the field. This course, steadily pursued, uadcr ^ 

the immediate supervision of Washington, ^ 

could scarcely fail to procure rank, and lead to 1; 

eminence. Accordingly, August 26, 1776, he <; 

was promoted by Congress to the rank of major- ;; 

general in the regular army, < 

A crisis, most glowing and portentous to the s 

s cause of freedom, had now arrived. Li the < 

s retreat which now commenced through New- J 

■^ Jersey, General Washington was accompanied i 



> by General Greene, and received from him all 

the aid that, under circumstances so dark and ij 

unpromising, talents, devotion, and firmness ^ 

could afford. • Possessed alike of an ardent I 

temperament, hearts that neither danger nor < 

misfortune could appal, and an inspiring trust < 

m the righteousness of their cause, it belonged <i 

to the character of these two great and illus- I 

trious commanders, never for a moment to \ 

despair of their country. Hope and confidence, i 

even now, beamed from their countenances, j 

and they encouraged their followers, and sup- ^ 



32 HEROES OF THE llEVOLUTION. 



< ported them under the pressure of defeat and ;! 

J misfortune. s 

,' Greene was one of the council of Wash- \ 

] ington who resolved on the enterprise of De- < 

S cember 26, 1776, against the post of the enemy > 

i at Trenton. The issue is known, and is :j 
glorious in our history. About one thousand 



«; Hessians, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, b 



with their arms, field-equipage, and artillery, J 

were the trophies of that glorious morning, i 

which opened on the friends of American / 



freedom with the day-star of hope. He was i 

again of the council of the commander-in-chief, i 
in planning the daring attack, January 2, 1777, 

on the British garrison at Princeton, as well as ^ 

his associate in achieving its execution. In > 

both these brilliant actions, his gallantry, I 

prudence, and skill being alike conspicuous, he ^ 



,• received the applauses of his commander. He > 

^ continued the associate and most confidential > 

< counsellor of Washington through the gloom.y •? 

\ and ominous period that followed. J 

\ In the obstinate and bloody battle of Brandy \ 

wine. General Greene, by his distinguished ^ 

conduct, added greatly to his former renown. J 



s In the course of it, a detachment of American ^j 

J troops, commanded by General Sullivan, being j 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 33 

nnexpectedly attacked by the enemy, retreated 
jri disorder, General Greene, at the head of 
Weedon's Virginia brigade, flew to their sup- 
port. On approaching, he found the defeat of 
General Sullivan a perfect rout. Not a moment 
was to be lost. Throwing himself into the 
rear of his flying countrymen, and retreating 
slowly, he kept up, especially from his cann n, 
so destructive a fire, as greatly to retard he 
advance of the enemy. Aiming at lengtl at a 
narrow defile, secured on the right and J rt by 
thick woods, he halted, sent forward his cannon, 
that they might be out of danger, in case of his -^ 

being compelled to a hasty retreat, and formed 
his troops, determined to dispute the pass with 



success, notwithstanding the vast superiority 
of the assailants ; until, after a conflict of more 
than an hour and a half, night came on, and 



c' that they might be out of danger, in case of his { 

s his small arms. This he efl'ected with complete < 

s success, notwithstandino- fbp v^cf cii>^QT.;^v;+Tr s 



^ brought it to a close. But for this quick-sighted '^ 

>^ interposition, Sullivan's detachment must have 



been nearl}^ annihilated 

J On this occasion only did the slightest mis- J 

\ understanding ever occur between General <" 

s Greene and the commander-in-chief. In his J 

\ general orders after the battle, the latter ne- j 

J glected to bestow any special applause on \ 



have endeavoured to do my duty constitutes, at 



34< HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Weedon's brigade. Against this General Greene J 

J remonstrated in person. s 

^ General Washington replied, " You, sir, are j 

J considered my favourite officer. Weedon's i 

\ brigade, like myself, are Virginians. Should 1 s^ 

\ applaud them for their achievement under your 1; 

'^ command, I shall be charged with partiality : j 

[! jealousy will be excited, and the service ;> 

^ injured." ') 

J " Sir," exclaimed Greene, with considerable s 

'\ emotion, " I trust your excellency will do me \ 

> the justice to believe that I am not selfish. In j 

;i my own behalf I have nothing to ask. Act 'i 

j towards me as you please ; I shall not complain. > 

J However richly I prize your excellency's good ^ 



^ opinion and applause, a consciousness that I ^ 



cj iiavc eiiueavuureu lu uu my uulj uuiisLiiuies, a\. ;> 

\ present, my richest reward. But do not, sir, < 

\ • let me entreat you, on account of the jealousy J 

\ that may arise in little minds, withhold justice { 

J from the brave fellows I had the honour to \ 

J command." ^ 

j Convinced that prudence forbade the special 

j notice requested, the commander-in-chief per- 

I sisted in his silence. Greene, on cool reflection, 

J appreciated the motive of his general, and lost 

j no time in apologizing for his intemperate 






r 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 35 

manner, if not for his expressions. Delighted 
with his frankness and magnanimity, Wash- 
ington replied with a smile, " An officer, tried 
as you have been, who errs but once in two 
years, deserves to be forgiven." With that he 
5 oiFered him his hand, and the matter terminated. 

I Following General Greene in his military 

I career, he next presents himself on the plains 

< of Germantown. In this daring assault he 

] commanded the left wing of the American 

1^ army, and his utmost endeavours were used to 

ij retrieve the fortune of the day, in which .lis 

^, conduct met the approbation of the commander- 

^ in-chief. Lord Cornwallis, to whom he was 

J often opposed, had the magnanimity to bestow 

i upon him a lofty encomium. " Greene," said 

he, " is as dangerous as Washington. He is 
vigilant, enterprising, and full of resources. 
With but little hope of gaining any advantage 
over him, I never feel secure when encamped 
in his neighbourhood." 
i At this period the quartermaster department 

> m the American army was in a very defective 

I and alarming condition, and required a speedy 

I and radical reform : and General Washington 

J declared, that such reform could be effected 

j only by the appointment of a quartermaster- 

\ 3 

) 
s 

) 



se 



HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



general/ of great resources, well versed in \ 

business, and possessing practical talents of the ^ 

first order. When requested by Congress to J 

look out for such an officer, he at once fixed s 

his eye on General Greene. <J 

I Washington well knew that the soul of < 

s Greene was indissolubly wedded to the duties ;j 

> of his line. Notwithstanding this, he expressed, ,^ 

J in conversation with a member of Congress, '< 

\ his gntire persuasion, that if General Greene J 

\ could be convinced of his ability to render his '<', 

s country greater services in the quartermaster J 

J department than in the field, he would at once J; 

J accept the appointment. " There is not," said ' J 

I he, " an officer of the army, nor a man in [> 

) America, more sincerely attached to the inter- ;i 

s ests of his country. Could he best promote '; 

s their interests in the character of a corporal, \ 

\ he would exchange, as I firmly believe, without ''^ 

( a murmur, the epaulet for the knot. For > 

\ although he is not without ambition, that ambi- J 

\ tion has not for its object the highest rank so 'i 

'/ much as the greatest good.''' ^ 

I When the appointment was first offered to \ 

J General Greene, he declined it; but after a ( 

J conference with the commander-in-chief, he ■' 

J consented to an acceptance, on condition thai | 



NATHANIEL GREENb. 57 > 



S 

\ 

•J to command the right wing, where he greatly 



contributed to retrieve the errors of his pre- 
decessor, and to the subsequent events of the 
day. 

His return to his native state was hailed by 
the inhabitants with general and lively demon- 
strations of joy. Even the leading members 
of the society of Friends, who had reluctantly 
excluded him from their communion, often 



he should forfeit nothing of his rignt to com- \ 

mand in time of action. On these terms he <; 



received the appointment, March 22, 1778, ana i 

entered immediately on the duties of the office. } 

In this station he fully answered the ex- \ 

pectations formed of his abilities ; and enabled 



the American army to move with additional ^ 



\ celerity and vigour. J 



< During his administration of the quarter 

master department, he took, on two occasions, ? 

a high and distinguished part in the field ; the \ 

first in the battle of Monmouth ; the second, 
in a very brilliant expedition against the enemy 
in Rhode Island, under the command of General 
Sullivan. At the battle of Monmouth, the 
commander-in-chief, disgusted with the be- 
haviour of General Lee, deposed him in the 
field of battle, and appointed General Greene 






n 



ISS HEROES OF THE P.EVq^UTJuN. 



\ visited him at his quarters, and expressed their 

^ sincere satisfaction at the elevation he had at- j 

I tained in the confidence of his country. One i 

j of these plain gentlemen being asked in jest, ] 

^ by a young officer, how he, as an advocate of j 

? peace, could reconcile it to his conscience to \ 

I keep so much company with General Greene, jj 

^ whose profession was war ? promptly replied, J 

«! " Friend, it is not a suit of uniform that can s 

5 either make or spoil a man. True, I do not ^ 

approve of this many-coloured apparel, (to the . s 

officer's dress,) but whatever may be the form J 

or colour of his coat, Nathaniel Greene still < 

' , s 

retains the same sound head and virtuous heart \ 

that gained him the love and esteem of our ^ 

Society." \ 

During the year 1779, General Greene was s 

occupied exclusively in the extensive concerns jl 



of the quartermaster department. 



to the performance of a duty the most trying 
and painful he had ever encountered. We 
allude to the melancholy affair of Major Andre, 
adjutant-general to the British army, who was 
captured in disguise within the American lines. 
Washington detailed a court for this trial, 
composed of fourteen general officers, La 



> About this time General Greene was called <; 



\ NATHANIEL GREENE. ^ ? 

l Fayette and Steuben being two of the number, J 

( and appointed General Greene to preside. J 

\ When summoned to his trial, Andre frankly \ 

\ disclosed, without interrogatory, what bore J 

;j heaviest on his own life, but inviolably con- ^ 

> cealed whatever might endanger the safety of i; 

< others. His confessions were conclusive, and , > 
'] no witness was examined a2;ainst him. The > 
J court were unanimous that he had been taken ^ 
^ as a spy, and must suffer death. Of this sen- ^ 

> tence he did not complain, but wished that he < 

> might be permitted to close a life of honour by \ 
fj a professional death, and not be compelled, like ^ 
^ a common felon, to expire on a gibbet. To ^ 

< effect this, he made, in a letter to General J" 



•] Washington, one of the most powerful and i 

s' pathetic appeals that ever fell from the pen of ^ 

^ a mortal. j 

\ Staggered in his resolution, the commander- i 

I in-chief referred the subject, accompanied by \ 

h the letter, to his general officers, who, with > 

;, one exception, became unanimous in their de- j 

J sire that Andre should be shot. I 

I That exception was found in General Greene, j 

I; the president of the court. " Andre," said he, j 

\ " is either a spy or an innocent man. If the { 

\ latter, to execute him in any way will be \ 



40 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



feelings to triumph over your judgment. In- 



dulgence to one may be death to thousands 



^ Greene is about to experience an entire change 



1 



> murder : if the former, the mode of his neatn '? 
"!' is prescribed by law, and you have no right to j 
s alter it. Nor is this all. At the present i 
■> alarming crisis of our affairs, the public safety j 
s calls for a solemn and impressive example. { 
I Nothing can satisfy it short of the execution ^ 

> of the prisoner as a common spy • a character \ 
\ of which his own confession has clearly con- J 
I; victed him. Beware how you suffer your j 






} Besides, if you shoot the prisoner, instead of ^ 

'< hanging him, you will excite suspicion which 2 

< you will be unable to allay. Notwithstanding '• 

j all your efforts to the contrary, you will awaken ^ 

public compassion, and the belief will become J 

J general, that, in the case of Major Andre, there J 

^ were exculpatory circumstances, entitling him < 

\ to lenity, beyond what he received — perhaps ^ 

^ entitling him to pardon. Hang him, therefore, 1; 

(. or set him free." j 

f This reasoning being considered conclusive, > 

J the prisoner suffered as a common spy. ^ 

[ We have now advanced to that period of the J 

^ revolutionary war in which the situation of J 



No longer acting in the vicinity, or subject to j 



J NATHANIEL GREENE. 41 j 

the immediate orders of a superior, we are to ^ 

behold him, in future, removed to a distance, 



s 

rj and virtually invested with the supreme com- s 



mand of a large .section of the United States. > 

> Cono-ress, dissatisfied with the loss of the \ 

'> southern army, resolved that the conduct of ^ 

\ General Gates be submitted to the examination j 

j of a court of inquiry, and the commander-in- s 

\ chief directed to appoint an officer to succeed s 

\ him. In compliance with the latter part of s 

\ the resolution. General Washington, without J 

j hesitation, offered the appointment to General > 

I Greene. In a letter to Congress, recommend- ^ 

j ing the general to the support of that body, he ^ 

^ made the most honourable mention of him as '^ 

<' " an officer in whose abilities, fortitude, and in- 

J tegrity, from a long and intimate experience 

< of them, he had the most entire confidence." 

\ Writing to Mr. Matthews, a member from 

I Charleston, he says, " You have your wish, in 

j; the officer appointed to the southern command. 

I I think I am giving you a general ; but what J 

i can a general do without arms, without clothing, J 

i without stores, without provisions ?' j 

J General Greene arrived at Charlotte, the i 



head-quarters of General Gates, December 2, i 

1780, and in entering on the duties of his \ 



.^ 



{ 42 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. \ 

I ) 

\ command, he found himself in a situation thai j 

was fearfully embarrassing. His army, con- | 

sisting mostly of militia, amounted to less than \ 

two thousand men, and he found on hand bul ^ 

. i 

three days' provision, and a very defective s 

\ supply of ammunition. In front was an enemy, ;; 

proud in victory, and too strong to be encoun- j 

tered. With such means, and under such \ 

circumstances, to recover two states, already > 

conquered, and protect a third, constituted a 1; 

task that was almost hopeless. ;. 



\ either in proffered or accepted battle. These 
i operations depend on mere professional qualifi- 
> cations, that can be readily acquired by mo- 
ll derate capacities. But to raise and provide for 
I an army in a dispirited and devastated country, 



operate with an incompetent force on an ex- 



;. It was not merely to meet an enemy in the ^I 

;, field, to command skilfully and fight bravely, [; 



creating resources where they do not exist ; to < 



S operate wuu an incuuipti'Leui luice un aii ca- |, 

tended and broken line of frontier ; to hold in i 



check in many points, and to avoid coming into > 

contact in any, with an enemy superior in i 

numbers and discipline ; to conduct a scheme ^ 

of warfare like this — and such, precisely, was ;! 

that which tested the abilities of Genera] \ 

Greene— requires a genius of the highest order, < 






NATHANIEL GREENE. ' 43 



combined with indefatigable industry and J 

skill. 5 

Preparatory to the commencement of the 

campaign, Greene's first care was to prepare I 

for his troops subsistence and ammunition, and ^ 

in effecting this, he derived great aid from his > 

personal experience in the business of the I 

commissary and quartermaster's departments. ^ 

This qualification for such a diversity of duties, J 

presented him to his troops in the two-fold re- ^ 

lation of their supporter and commander. ^' 

Much of the moral strength of an army con- > 

sists in a confidence in its leader, an attachment j 

to his person, and a spirit of subordination, 5I 

founded on principle. To such an extent was s 

this true, that even the common soldiery, '< 

sensible of the superintendence of a superior •'^ 

intellect, predicted confidently a change of ^ 

fortune. Their defeat at Camden was soon \ 

forgotten by them in their anticipations of ^ 

future victory. They fancied themselves ready J 

once more to take the field, and felt a solicitude ;. 

to regain their lost reputation, and signalize s 

their prowess in presence of their new and s 

beloved commander. ? 

But, notwithstanding the spirit and confi- 
dence of his troops, Greene found himself 



^4f "HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



<; unable to meet the enemy in the field. With '! 

jj Washington in his eye, and his own genius to s 

j devise his measures, he resolved on cautious < 

j movements and protracted war. Yet to sustain ^ 



j the spirit of the country, it was necessary that [> 



s he should not altogether shun his enemy ; but ;i 

i watching and confronting his scouts and fo- j. 

s r'aging parties, fight, cripple, and beat him in j 

> detail 5 and in all his movements it was ;! 

I necessary for him to maintain a communication i 

'^ with Virginia, from which he was to receive ^ 

\ supplies of provisions, munitions, and men. I 

I General Greene's first movement from the "? 

j; village of Charlotte, was productive of the \ 

<\ happiest effect. In the month of December s' 

i he marched with his main army to the Cheraw J 

\ Hills, about seventy mJles to the right of Lord ;; 

') Cornwallis, despatching, at the same time, ^ 

^ General Morgan, with four hundred continen- 

s tals under Colonel Howard, Colonel Wash- 

l ington's corps of dragoons, and a few militia, 

i; amounting in all to six hundred, to take a 

!; position on the British left, distant from them J 

about fifty miles. i 

j This judicious disposition, which formed a j 

J rallying point for the friends of independence, { 

5 both in the east and west, and facilitated the j 



j NATHANIEL GllEENE. 4!i j 

S ^ ^ i 

J procurement of provisions for the troops, ex- ^ 

r^ cited his lordship's apprehensions for the safety ! 

^ of Ninety-Six and Augusta, British posts, which | 

1; he considered as menaced by the movements 

;. Df Morgan, and gave rise to a train of move- 

s iT>ents which terminated in the celebrated 

J battle of the Cowpens. 

< Cornwallis, immediately on learning the 

^ movements of Greene, despatched Colonel 

;■ Tarlton with a strong detachment, amounting, 

^ in horse and foot, to near a thousand, for the 

> protection of Ninety-Six, with orders to bring 
^ General Morgan, if possible, to battle. Greatly 

superior in numbers, he advanced on Morgan 

with a menacing aspect, and compelled him, at i; 

first, to fall back rapidly. But this was not { 
long continued. Glorying in action, and re- • > 

lying with great confidence in the spirit and < 

\ firmness of his regular troops, Morgan halted J 

j at the Cowpens, and prepared to give his ;; 

5 adversary battle. The opportunity was eagerly j 

j seized by Tarlton. An engagement was the ^ 

> immediate consequence, and a complete victory I 
( was obtained by the Americans.* Upwards ^ 
I of five hundred of the British laid down their J 
;! arms and were made prisoners, and a very con- ^ 
I ^ * Vide Biography of General Morgan. ; 



J 



46 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION 



j siderable number were killed. Eight hundred \ 

{ stand of arms, two field-pieces, and thirty-five \ 

{ bassao-e wag-ons, fell to the victors, who had \ 

/ CD DO-' ■' \ 

\ only twelve killed and sixty wounded. \ 

'i The victory of the Cowpens, although 1; 

\ achieved under the immediate command of J 

J Morgan, was the first stroke of General Greene's j 

S policy in the south, and augured favourably of ^ 

\ his future career. It led to one of the most \ 

\ arduous, ably conducted, and memorable ope- f. 

\ rations, that occurred in the course of the \ 

\ revolutionary war — the retreat of Greene, and ^ 

\ the pursuit of Cornwallis, during the inclemen* ^ 

\ cies of winter, a distance of two hundred and > 

s thirty miles. ? 

j Galled in his pride, and crippled in his ;, 

\ schemes by the overthrow of Tarlton, Lord -^ 

) Cornwallis resolved, by a series of prompt and \ 

\ vigorous measures, to avenge the injury and \ 

\ retrieve the Joss which the royal arms had ^ 

\ sustained at the Cowpens. His meditated j 

j operations for this purpose were, to advance j 

s rapidly on Morgan, retake his prisoners, and \ 

\ destroy his force ; to maintain an intermediate j 

\ position, and prevent his union with General 

\ Greene oi in case of the junction of the two j 






xVATHANIEL GREENE. 47 ^ 



aimies, to cut off their retreat towards Virginia, \ 

\ and force them to action. J 

\ ^ But General Greene, no less vigilant and \ 

\ provident than himself, informed, by express, ) 

\ of the defeat of Tarlton, instantly perceived j 

§ the object of his lordship, and ordering his j 

\ troops to proceed under General Huger to j 

J Salisbury, where he meditated a junction with } 

\ Morgan's detachment, he himself, escorted by \ 

j a few dragoons, set out for the head-quarters ,j 

K of that oiTicer, and joined him shortly after. 1; 

J Cornwallis having committed to the flames \ 

\ his heavy baggage, and reduced his army to the j 

\ condition of light troops, dashed towards Mor- J 

,■< gan. And here commenced the retreat of \ 

\ General Greene, in the course of which he <; 

\ displayed such resources, and gained in the end 

s such lastino; renown. Sensible of the immense 



\ 

\ prize for which he was contending, he tasked h 

J his genius to the uttermost. On the issue of ) 

> the struggle was staked, not merely the lives of ;; 

\ a few brave men, not alone the existence of \ 

j the whole army, but the fate of the south and ^^ 

\ the integrity of the Union. But his genius ? 

{ was equal to the crisis. By the most masterly ) 

\ movements, Greene effected a junction of the ,; 

• two divisions of his little army. \ 



48 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. ^^ 

To his great mortification, Lord Cornwallis \ 

now perceived that in two of his objects, the ') 

destruction of Morgan's detachment, and the \ 

J prevention of its union with the main division, > 

\ he was completely frustrated by the activity \ 

J of Greene. But to cut off the retreat of the J 

\ Americans into Virginia, after their union, and ] 

5 to compel them to action, was still perhaps J 

\ practicable, and to the achievement of this he ^ 

\ now directed his undivided energies. ^ 

'• The genius of Greene, however, did not de- j 

J sert him on this trying occasion. Self-collected, > 

^^ and adapting his conduct to the nature of the J 

^ crisis, his firmness grew with the increase of j 

^ danger ; and the measure of his greatness wac ] 

i the extent of the difficulties he was called to ] 

encounter. Notwithstandino; the vio;ilance and \ 

activity of his enemy, he brought his men in \ 

safety into Virginia ; and to crown the whole, \ 

no loss was sustained by him, either in men, ;j 

munitions, artillery, or any thing that enters \ 

into the equipment of an arm.y. < 

Frustrated thus in all his purposes. Lord s 

Cornwallis, although the pursuing party, must ^ 
be acknowledged to have been fairly van- ' \ 

quished. Victory is the successful issue of a ^ 

struggle for superiority. Military leaders con- \ 



N/;TTi4..\;EL GREENE. 49 j 



tend fur different ov.jt^ts; to vanquish their ^. 

enemies in open coitili*.^; to attack and over- j 

throw them by strdtagi-^iQ and surprise; to ex- \ 

haust their resources by delay of action ; or to { 

elude them in retreat, until, strengthened by \ 

reinforcements, they may be able to turn and j 

meet them in the field. Of this last description ;■ 

was the victory of Greene in this memorable J 

retreat. s 

^ In Virginia, General Greene received some < 



< reinforcements, and had the promise of more ; |; 
^ on which he returned again into North Carolina, J 

< where, on their arrival, he hoped to be able to j 
1; act on the offensive. He encamped in the vi- j> 
> cinity of Lord Cornwaliis's army. By a variety ^ 
J of the best concerted manoeuvres, he so judi- ;; 
s ciously supported the arrangement of his troops, 
s by the secrecy and promptitude of his -motions, 
^ that ciuring three weeks, while the enemy re- 
J mained near him, he prevented them from 
(J taking any advantage of their superiority ; and 
\ even cut off all opportunity of their receiving '< 
s succours from the royalists. s 
s About the be2;innino; of March he effected a <; 
J junction with a continental regiment and two ^ 
\ considerable bodies of Virginia and Carolina \ 
I militia. He then determined on attacking the ] 



50 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



\ British commander without loss of time, " being < 

\ persuaded," as he declared in his subsequent J 

I despatches, " that if he was successful, it would ( 

I prove ruinous to the enemy ; and, if otherwise, j 

5 that it would be but a partial evil to him." j 

\ On the 14th he arrived at Guilford Court-House, j 

i the British then Ivino; at twelve miles distance. 

J His army consisted of about four thousand { 

'j five hundred men, of whom near two-thirds -; 

•l were North Carolina and Virginia mili'ia. The \ 

J British were about two thousand four hundred, 

<; all regular troops, and the greater part inured 

j) to toil and service in their long expedition 

^ under Lord Cornwallis, who, on the morning 

!; of the 15th, being apprised of General Greene's 

) intentions, marched to meet him. The latter 

i disposed his army in three lines : the militia of 

s North Carolina were in front ; the second line 

^ was composed of those of Virginia ; an \ 'he 

I third, which was the flower of the army, was 

J formed of continental troops, near fifteen 

hundred in number. They were flanked on 
Doth sides by cavalry and riflemen, and posted 
on a rising ground, a mile and a halt fvom 
Guilford Court-House. 

"The eno-ao-ement commenced at half an 

o D 

hour after one o'clock, by a brisk cannonade , 

i I 



J NATHANIEL GREENE. 51 
J' 

\ after which the British advanced in three 

? cohimns, and attacked the first line, composed 

^ of North Carohna militia. Those who pro- 

J bably had never been in action before, were 



i 4 

/ 
/ 
i 



panic-struck at the approach of the enemy; s 

and many of them ran away without firing a < 

gun, or being fired upon, and even before the 



(J & 7 "-"^ v^-«''5 iiAv,^ i*|yuii, ciiiva tvcii L/CIUIC LUC S 

\ British had come nearer than one hundred and i 



forty yards to them. Part of them, however, 
fired ; but they then followed the example of 
their comrades. Their officers made every ^ 

possible effort to rally them ; but neither the 
advantages of position, nor any other considera- 
tion, could induce them to maintain their 
ground. This shameful conduct had a great 
efi?ect upon the issue of the battle. The next 
line, however, behaved much better. They 
fought with great bravery, and were thrown S 

J into disorder ; rallied, returned to the charge, \ 

) and kept up a heavy fire for a long time ; but \ 

were at length broken and driven on the third \ 

line, when the engagement became general, • \ 
very severe, and very bloody. At length, ^ 

superiority of discipline carried the day from \ 

superiority of numbers. The conflict endured / 

\ an hour and a half, and was terminated by \ 

General Greene's ordering a retreat, when he \ 



52 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION 



j perceived that the enemy were on the point of J 

) encircling his troops." ^ 

j This was a hard-fought action, and the ex- \ 

> ertions of the two rival generals, both in pre- ^ 

I paring for this action, and during the course j 

j of it, were never surpassed. Forgetful of \ 

\ every thing but the fortune of the day, they, j 

j on several occasions, mingled in the danger «; 

'] like common soldiers. J 

'; The loss sustained by the Americans in this j 



J battle, amounted, in killed and wounded, to \ 

\ only about four hundred; while, in its effect ;i 

I; on the enemy, it was murderous ; nearly one ^. 

f third of them, including many officers of dis- s' 

)' tinction, were killed and wounded. ^ 

J The result of this conflict, althou2;h techni- i 

I s 

\ cally a defeat, was virtually a victory on the "t 

\ part of General Greene. In its relation to his \ 

\ adversary, it placed him on higher ground than \ 

.; he had previously occupied; enabling him, \ 

\ immediately afterward, instead of retreating, \ 



to become the pursuing party. This is evi- 
denced by his conduct soon after the action. 

Not doubting that Lord Cornwallis would 
follow him, he retreated slowly, and in good 
order, from the field of battle, until attaining, 
at the distance of a few miles, an advantageous 



.--- \ 



.---.--^-.-^w->.- 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 53 \ 

position, he again drew up his forces, deter- J 

mined to renew the contest on the arrival of ? 

his enemy. But his lordship was in no con- j 

dition to pursue. Having, by past experience, i 

not to be forgotten, learnt that his adversary was j 

a Ulysses in wisdom, he now perceived that \ 

he was an Ajax in strength. Alike expert in <, 



every mode of warfare, and not to be van- 
quished either by stratagem or force, he found 
him too formidable to be again approached. 



\ Influenced by these sentiments. Lord Corn- '; 

i wallis, instead of pursuing his foe, or even > 

^ maintaining his ground, commenced his retreat, < 

> leaving behind him about seventy of his J 
i wounded, whom he recommended, in a letter s 
\ written by himself, to the humanity and J 
I attention of the American chief. '<: 
.; Had General Greene been in a situation to } 
^ pursue his lordship as soon as he commenced 

> his retreat, the destruction of that officer and 
J his army would have been inevitable. Some 
\ spot on the plains of Carolina would have ' 
j witnessed the surrender that was reserved for 
J Virginia; and the hero of the south would 
J" ■ have won the laurels which shortly afterwards 
j decorated the brow of the hero of the nation. 
S But Greene's military stores were so far ex- 






^ 54f HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. J 

\ pended that he could not pursue, until he j 

[' received a supply; and the delay, thus occa- j 

< sioned, gave time to the British commander to J 

I effect his escape. I; 

<, Having received his supplies, Greene im- J 

i mediately pursued the enemy ; but the advanced y 

? position of Lord Cornwallis, and the impracti- > 

\ cable condition of the roads, frustrated every J 

> exertion that General Greene could make to ^ 

b compel the enemy to a second engagement : J 



s convinced of this, he halted to indulge his > 

J troops in that refreshment and repose which ^ 



< they so much needed. < 
\ Were we to indicate the period in the life j! 
> of General Greene most strongly marked by s 
I; the operations, and irradiated by the genius of ^ 
I a great commander, we would, without hesita- ^ 
I tion, select that which extends from the com- \ 
i mencement of his retreat before Cornwallis, to > 

< the termination of his pursuit of him at this I 
time. Perhaps a brighter era does not adorn ^ 
the military career of any leader. It was in J 
the course of it that he turned the current of ^ 
adverse fortune consequent on the defeat of J 
Gates, which he afterwards directed with such ^ 
certain aim and irresistible force, as to keep the i 
enemy from his numerous strong holds in the j 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 55 



met by the energies of that state, with such 
assistance as might arrive from the north, he 
should penetrate South Carolina, his army 



southern department, and contributed so pre- j 

eminently to the speedy and felicitous issue of < 

the war. j 

Having abandoned the pursuit of the British j 

> army, the general again found himself encircled j 
J with difficulties. Of the southern department J 

> of the Union, over which Greene's command j 
!• extended, the enemy was in force in three <! 
1; large and important sections. Georgia and \ 
\ South Carolina were entirely in their posses- \ 
s sion ; Lord Cornwallis had taken post in the \ 
''. maritime district of North Carolina, and part ') 
? of Virginia was occupied by a powerful de- ) 
j tachment of British troops, under the command <; 
;> of General Phillips. At a loss to determine j 
i in which of these points he should act in per- \ 
\ son, he consulted his officers, and found them ) 
^ greatly divided in opinion. He however re- ^ 
J solved, in accordance to the views of Colonel '^ 
;-' Lee, that leaving his lordship, whose object J 
{ evidently was the invasion of Virginia, to be '^ 



r; divided into two columns, attack and beat the ^ 

'I enemy at their different posts, without per- < 

i^ mittin^ them to concentrate their forces, and ^ 



56 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



/ thus recover that rich and important member 1; 

s of the Union. \ 

j An officer who had distinguished himself in J. 

I the late action, not satisfied with the proposed s 

J plan of operations, asked General Greene, by ;; 

I way of remonstrance, " What will you do, sir, ^ 

s in case Lord Cornwallis throws himself in your j 

< rear, and cuts off your communication with > 

(; Virginia?" "I will punish his temerity," re- < 

J plied the general with great pleasantness, "by \ 

I ordering you to charge him as you did at the 1; 



J battle of Guilford. But . never fear, sir ; his ^ 



J lordship has too much good sense ever again to > 

i risk his safety so far from the sea-board. He ^j 

! has just escaped ruin, and he knows it, and I 5 

'I am greatly mistaken in his character as an ] 

;> officer, if he has not the capacity to profit by i 

i experience." | 

\ On the 7th of April, General Greene broke j 

< up his encampment, and with the main column ; 

J of his army moving to the south, took position j 

^ on Hobkirk's Hill, in front of Camden, the j 

' head-quarters of Lord Rawdon, now the com- 

; mander-in-chief of the British forces in the 1 

J south. 5 

\ The strength of the British position, which j 

j was covered on the south and east side by a ;; 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 



river and creek, and to the westward and 
; northward by six redoubts, rendered it im- 

practicable to carry it by storm with the small 
army Greene had, consisting of about seven 
< hundred continentals, the militia having gone 

j home. He therefore encamped at about a mile 

\ from the town, in order to prevent supplies 



^ some time before detached for the protection 

^ of the eastern frontiers, and to whom he had, 

I oa the intelligence of General Greene's in- 

\ tentions, sent orders to return to Camden, was 

I; so effectually watched by General Marion, that 

I it was impossible for him to obey. His lord- 

ship's supplies were, moreover, very preca- 
rious ; and should General Greene's reinforce- 
ments arrive, he might be so closely invested 



dilemma, the best expedient that suggested 
itself, was a bold attack ; for which purpose lie 
armed every person with him capable of 
crrrying a musket, not excepting his musicians 
and drummers. He sallied out on the 25th of 



', from being brought in, and to take advantage 

( of such favourable circumstances as might 



C3 s 



) occur. Jv 

j Lord Rawdon's situation was extremely ■: 

^/ delicate. Colonel Watson, whom he had > 



\ as to be at length obliged to surrender. In this > 



i 58 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

) 

1 

\ Apiil, and attacked General Greene in his 

^ ramp. The defence was obstinate ] and for \ 

s some part of the engagement the advantage \ 

\ appeared to be in favour of America. Lieu- ■; 

^ tenant-Colonel Washington, who commanded s 

\ the cavalry, had at one time not less than two > 

5 hundred British prisoners. However, by the \ 

\ misconduct of one of the American regiments, s 

j victory was snatched from General Greene, \ 

\ who was compelled to retreat. He lost in the <; 

I action about two hundred killed, wounded and ^ 

I prisoners. Rawdon lost about two hundred <; 

? and fifty-eight. ,J 

\ There was a great similarity between the ^ 

;! consequences of the affair at Guilford, and ;J 

s those of this action. In the former, Lord < 

\ Cornwallis was successful ; but was afterward < 

\ obliged to retreat two hundred miles from the > 

5 scene of action, and for a time abandoned the I' 

^ grand object of penetrating to the northward. \ 

\ In the latter. Lord Rawdon had the honour of ^ 

J the field, but was shortly after reduced to the s 

J necessity of abandoning his post, and leaving \ 

\ behind him a number of sick and wounded. ] 

) The evacuation of Camden, with the vigi- J 

\ lance of General Greene, and the several ] 

J officers he employed, gave a new complexion ^ 

\ 



5 NATHANIEL GE.EENE. 59 

'] to affairs in South Carolina, where the British \ 

>. ascendency declined more rapidly than it had s 

<' been established. The numerous forts garri- i 

> soned by the enemy, fell, one after the other, !; 
;J into the hands of the Americans. Orange- \ 
j burg, Motte, Watson, Georgetown, Granby, ^| 
s and others. Fort Ninety-Six excepted, were s 
^ surrendered; and a very considerable number J 
^ of prisoners of war, with military stores and ^ 

> artillery, were found in them. \ 
\ On the 22d of May, General Greene sat down <• 
>| before Ninety-Six with the main part of his < 
j little army. The siege was carried on, for a ^ 

.> 



considerable time, with great spirit; and the 
place was defended with equal bravery. At 



S pia<^e was ucieiiueu witii ctj^uai uravcij. xxl s 

] length the works were so far reduced that a 

1; surrender must have been made in a few days, 

^ when a reinforcement of three reo-iments from 



\ Europe arrived at Charleston, which enabled J 

j Lord Rawdon to proceed to relieve this im- \ 

^ portant post. The superiority of the enemy's \ 

j force reduced General Greene to the alternative J 

j of abandoning the siege altogether, or, previous j 

\ to their arrival, of attempting the fort by storm. ^? 

j The latter was more agreeable to his enterpri- ;' 

j sing spirit; and an attack was made on the ;! 

i morning of the 19th of June* He was re- j 

I I 



i 60 HEROES OF IHE REVOLUTION. 

i pulsed with the loss of one hundred and fifty 



f 

;• men. He raised the siege, and retreated over ^ 

•i the Saluda. ] 

I Dr. Ramsay, speaking of the state of affairs <; 
<^ about this period, says, " truly distressing was 
J the situation of the American army ; "when in 
^ the grasp of victory, to be obliged to expose 

\ themselves to a hazardous assault, and after- j 
J ward to abandon a siege. When they were 
•J nearly masters of the whole country, to be 
5 compelled to retreat to its extremity ; and after 

^ subduing the greatest part of the force sent j 

j against them, to be under the necessity of J 
J encountering still greater reinforcements, when 

5 their remote situation precluded them from the \ 
s hope of receiving a single recruit. In this 

I gloomy situation there were not wanting per- ^ 

S sons who advised General Greene to leave the s 

state, and retire v/ith his remaining forces to ;, 

Virginia, To arguments and suggestions of ;$ 

this kind he nobly replied, ' I will recover the ^ 

country, or die in the attempt.' This distin- $ 

guished officer, whose genius was most vigorous S 

in those extremities when feeble minds abandon > 

themselves to despair, adopted the only resource j 

now left him, of avoiding an engagement until i 
the British force should be divided." 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 6l 



) . Greene having, without loss, made good his ^ 

;> passage over the rivers in front, Lord Rawdon, j 



I perceiving the futility of any further attempt \ 

K to overtake him, abandoned the pursuit, and ^ 

(, retreating to Ninety-Six, prepared for its j 

^ ' evacuation. Thus did the policy of Greene, J 

I which is moral strength, compel the surrender J 

\ of that fortress, although, from a want of i 

5 physical strength, he failed to carry it by the S 

< sword. i 

<; No sooner had Lord Rawdon commenced his > 

\ retrograde movement towards Ninety-Six, than ;! 

\ General Greene changed his front and moved j 

? in the same direction. On the breaking up of ^ 

s the garrison of Ninety-Six, and the return of ? 

,s Lord Rawdon towards Charleston, which im- J; 

J mediately ensued, the British army moved in > 

two columns, at a considerable distance from J 

each other. It was then that General Greene < 

became, in reality, the pursuing party, ex- •', 

ceedingly anxious to bring the enemy to battle. <^ 

But this he was unable to accomplish until > 

September. ^f 

September the 9th, General Greene having < 

assembled about two thousand men, proceeded I 

to attack the British, who, under the command < 

of Colonel Stewart were posted at the Eutaw >, 



r 



62 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Springs. The American force was drawn up 
in two lines j the first, composed of Carolina 
militia, was commanded by Generals Marion 
and Pickens, and Colonel de Malmedy. The 
second, which consisted of continental troops 



by the second line. In the hottest part of the 



;; from North Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland, > 

\ was commanded by General Sumpter, Lieu- i 



? tenant-Colonel Campbell, and Colonel Wil- ^ 

i liams : Lieutenant-Colonel Lee, with his legion, \ 

J covered the right flank ; and Lieutenant-Colonel J 

;; Henderson, with the state troops, covered the 1; 

^ left. A corps de reserve was formed of the ? 

\ cavalry under Lieutenant-Colonel Washington, ^ 

<> and the Delaware troops under Captain Kirk- j 

\ wood. As the Americans came forward to the \ 



attack, they fell in with some advanced parties < 

of the enemy, at about two or three miles \ 

ahead of the main body. These being closely { 

pursued, were driven back, and the action soon j 

became general. The militia were at length j 

forced to give way, but were bravely supported s 



\ ensasrement, General Greene ordered the Mary- i 

[ land and Virginia continentals to charge with ^ 

^ trailed arms. This decided the fate of the day. ] 

5 " Nothing," says Dr. Ramsay, ^" could surpass j 

j the intrepidity of both officers and men on this ^ 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 6^5 

occasion. They rushed on in good order, 
through a heavy cannonade and a shower of 

musketry, with such unshaken resokition that j 

they bore down all before them." The British \ 

were broken, closely pursued, and upwards of \ 

J five hundred of them were taken prisoners. •! 



They, however, made a fresh stand in a favour- < 



j! able position, in impenetrable shrubs and a 

s picketed garden. Lieutenant-Colonel Wash- '<'. 

> ington, after having made every effort to dis- 

\ lodge them, was wounded and taken prisoner. 

J Four six-pounders were brought forward to 

\ play upon them, but they fell into their hands ; 

;> and the endeavours to drive them from their 

;, station being found impracticable, the Ameri- 

f cans retired, leaving a very strong picket on 

\ the field of battle. Their loss was about five 

j hundred ; that of the British upwards of eleven 

I hundred. <; 

I General Greene was honoured by Congress 

; with a British standard and a gold medal, em- 

; blematical of the engagement, <' for his wise, 

decisive, and magnanimous conduct in the i 

' action at Eutaw Springs, in which, with a force s 

inferior in number to that of the enemy, he J 

obtained a most signal victory." ^ 

In the evening of the succeeding day, i 



r 

s 



64« HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



S flr^lnnpl 9stpTtr!3rf nVinnrlnnprl lliQ nnst nnr? rp« 5 



Colonel Stewart abandoned his post, and re- J 

treated towards Charleston, leaving behind s 

upwards of seventy of his wounded, and a < 

thousand stand of arms. He was pursued a ^' 

considerable distance, but in vain. I^ 

In Dr. Caldwell's Memoirs of the Life of ;! 

General Greene, we have the following inter- s 

esting story as connected v/ith the severe con- J 

flict at Eutaw Springs. J 

" Two young officers, bearing the same rank, $ 

I met in personal combat. The American per- > 

i ceiving that the Briton had a decided superiority < 

^ in the use of the sabre, and being himself of < 

> . great activity and personal strength, almost I 
\ gigantic, closed with his adversary, and made ^ 
s him his prisoner. J 
I " Gentlemanly, generous, and high-minded, ^ 
I this event, added to a personal resemblance I 
i which they were observed to bear to each other, ^' 
? produced between these two youthful warriors \ 
^ an intimacy, which increased, in a short time, !; 
I to a mutual attachment. j 
i " Not long after the action, the American j 
\ officer returning home on furlough, to settle i 

> some private business, obtained permission for ^ 
ij his friend to accompany him. ;j 

" Travelling without attendants or guard, i 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 65 






they were both armed and well mounted. Part ] 

of their route lay through a settlement highly < 

disaffected to the American cause. <; 

" When in the midst of this, having, in J 

consequence of a shower of rain, thrown \ 

around them their cloaks, which concealed s 

^ their uniforms, they were suddenly encountered J 

s by a detachment of tories. ^! 

► ^ " The young American determined to die J 

I rather than become a prisoner, especially to ^ 

\ men whom he held in abhorrence for disloyalty ^ 

,; to their country, and the generous Briton re- J 

> solved not to survive one by whom he had been ^. 

i distinguished and treated so kindly : they both ^ 

together, with great spirit and self-possession, J 

charged the royalists, having first made signals <^ 

in their rear, as if directing; others to follow ? 

... < 

them ; and thus, without injury on either side, j 

had the address and good fortune to put the ^ 

b party to flight. < 

< " Arriving in safety at their place of desti- < 

s' nation, what was their surprise and augmented i 

I* satisfaction on finding, from some questions j 

j proposed by the American officer's father, that ^ 

^ they were first cousins ! J 

i " With mcreasing delight, the young Briton j 

s passed several weeks in the family of his kins- ;; 



66 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



;! man, where the writer of this narrative sav 



soon felt for the gallant stranger more than the 
\ affection due to a cousin. The attachment was 

i mutual. 



5 him daily, and often listened, with the rapture ,s 

j of a child, to the checkered story of his j 

J military adventures. j 

\ " To heighten the occurrence, and render it j 

^ more romantic, the American officer had a ) 

s sister, beautiful and accomplished, whose heart s 



s 
" But here the adventure assumed a tragical ) 



^ cast. The youthful foreigner being exchanged, ^ 

;' was summoned to return to his regiment. The s 

J message was fatal to his peace, but military I 

i honour demanded the sacrifice, and the lady, < 

I* generous and high-minded as himself, would !^ 

> not be instrumental in dimming his laurels. ^ 

i' . "^ 

^ The parting scene was a high-wrought picture ^ 

^ of tenderness and sorrow. On taking leave ;. 

\ the parties mutually bound themselves, by a J 

J solemn promise, to remain single a certain J 

< number of years, in the hope that an arrange- J 
Ij ment contemplated might again bring them i 
\ together. A few weeks afterward, the lady ;. 
\ expired under an attack of the small-pox. J 

< The fate of the officer we never learnt." ;; 
^ Judge Johnson in his Life of General Greene. ^ 



NATHANIEL GKEENE. 



67 



Bays, "At the battle of Eutaw Springs, Greene \ 

says, ' that hundreds of my men were naked ) 
as they were horn.' Posterity will scarcely 

believe that the bare loins of many brave men ) 

who carried death into the enemy's ranks at { 

the Eutaw, were galled by their cartouch- j 

\ boxes, while a folded ras; or a tuft of moss i 

I protected their shoulders from sustaining the \ 

'\ same injury from the musket. Men of other ) 

? times will inquire, by what magic was the army \ 

;! kept together "? By what supernatural power s 

'< was it made to fight ]" ;; 

J General Greene, in his letters to the secretary (\ 

5 at war, says, " We have three hundred men > 

',] without arms, and more than one thousand so ,^ 

'? naked that they can be put on duty only in s 

cases of a desperate nature." Again he says, J 

" Our difficulties are so numerous, and our <; 

wants so pressing, that I have not a moment's ^ 

relief from the most painful anxieties. I have > 

more embarrassments than it is proper to dis- ■> 

close to the world. Let it suffice to say that ^ 
this part of the United States has had a narrow 

escape. / have been seven months in the field \ 

without taking off my clothes^ .; 

The battle of Eutaw Springs being termina- \ 

♦ ed. General Greene ordered the light troops \ 



I ...„„ J 



68 



HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



^ under Lee and Marion to march circuitously, 

\ and gain a position in the British rear. Bui 

> the British leader was so prompt. in his measures, 

s and so precipitate in his movements, that, 

J leaving his sick and wounded behind him, he 

\ made good his retreat. The only injury he 

^ received in his flight was from Lee and Marion, 

s who cut off part of his rear-guard, galled hira 

5 in his flanks, killed several, and made a number 

s of prisoners. 



Such was the issue of the battle of Eutaw. "J 



Like that of every other fought by General <; 

Greene, it manifested in him judgment and > 

sagacity of the highest order. Although he ^ 

was repeatedly forced from the field, it may be [; 

truly said of that ofiicer, that he never lost an ij 

action — the consequences, at least, being always '' 

in his favour. In no instance did he fail to J 

reduce his enemy to a condition relative^ \ 

much worse than that in which he met him, i 

his own condition, of course, being relatively :> 

improved. J 

The battle of the Eutaw Springs was the last 

essay in arms, in which it was the fortune of 5 

General Greene to command, and was succeeded ; 

by the abandonment of the whole of South { 
Carolina by the enemy, except Charleston 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 69 



j During the relaxation that followed, a danger- ;; 

s ous plot was formed by some mutinous persons > 

I of the army, to deliver up their brave general j 

^ to the British. The plot was discovered and J 

f defeated ; the ringleader apprehended, tried, ^ 

{ and shot, and twelve of the most guilty of his ^ 

J associates deserted to the enemy. To the J 

J honour of the American character, no native j 

i of the country was known to be concerned in •! 

i, this conspiracy. Foreigners alone were its \ 

^ projectors and abetters. f 

\ The surrender of Lord Cornwallis, whose ? 

^1 enterprising spirit had been, by the British \ 

^ ministry, expected to repair the losses, and 

> wipe away the disgrace which had been in- | 
'/ curred through the inactivity and indolence of J 

> other generals, having convinced them of the •', 

> impracticability of subjugating America, they > 
^ discontinued offensive operations in every < 
s quarter. The happy period at length arrived, ;; 
<', when, by the virtue and bravery of her sons, I 
i, aided by the bounty of heaven, America ;! 
^ compelled her invaders to acknowledge he.- J 
ij independence. Then her armies quitted the i 
^ tented field, and retired to cultivate the arts of r^ 
s peace and happiness. General Greene im- ^ 






70 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 






an estate, a few miles from the city of 
Savannah, worth five thousand pounds; and 



Having spent about two years in his native 
state, in the adjustment of his private affairs, 
he sailed for Georgia in October, 1785, and 
settled with his family on his estate near 
Savannah. Engaging here in agricultural pur- 
suits, he employed himself closely in arrange- 



s mediately withdrew from the south, and re- ^^ 

J turned to the bosom of his native state. j 

J' The reception he there experienced was ' 

\ cordial and joyous. The authorities welcomed \ 

^ him home with congratulatory addresses, and \ 

s the chief men of the place waited upon him j 

<^ at his dwelling, eager to testify their gratitude J 

for his services, their admiration of his talents < 

s i 

> and virtues, and the pride with which they J 

> recognized him as a native of Rhode Island. J 
i On the close of the war, the three southern I; 
s states that had been the most essentially bene- > 
< fitted by his wisdom and valour, manifested at jl 
i once their sense of justice, and their gratitude s 
:; to General Greene, by liberal donations. South ^ 
>' Carolina presented him with an estate valued ^ 
\ at ten thousand pounds sterling ; Georgia with I; 

\ 

s "' "^ ^ ' s 

J North Carolina, with twenty-five thousand < 

J acres of land in the state of Tennessee. j) 

\ 



-^-w-wr„-_^ 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 71 



^ meiits for planting, exhibiting the fairest pro- \ 

j mise to become as eminent in the practice of J 

s the peaceful virtues as he had already shown \ 

J himself in the occupation of war. j 

j; But it was the will of heaven that in this ^' 

\ new sphere of action his course should be ;-i 

.'; limited. The short period of seven months s 

.'; was destined to witness its commencement and ^ 

> its close. < 

^, Walking over his grounds, as was his custom, J 

J without his hat, on the afternoon of the 15th ^ 

J; of June, 1786, the day being intensely hot, he l; 

i was suddenly attacked with such a vertigo and j> 

^ prostration of strength, as to be unable to re- < 

^ turn to his house without assistance. The J 

5 affection was what was denominated a " stroke [• 



of the sun." It was succeeded by fever, > 

accompanied with stupor, delirium, and a dis- ,< 

ordered stomach. All efforts to subdue it i 

proving fruitless, it terminated fatally on the ^ 

I 19th of the month. \ 

< Intelligence of the event being conveyed to ^ 

< Savannah, but one feeling pervaded the place. J 
j Sorrow was universal; and the whole town j 
\ instinctively assumed the aspect of mourning. s 
) All business was suspended, the dwelling houses, < 



.-.-^i 



,^ 72 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

^ stores, and shops, were closed, and the shipping 

!j in the harbour half-masted their colours. 

i On the following day, the body of the de- 

;J ceased being conveyed to the town, at the re- 

s quest of the inhabitants, was interred in a 

^ private cemetry with military honours; the ; 

\ magistrates of the place, and other public ; 

{; officers, the society of the Cincinnati, and the j 

'f citizens generally, joined in the procession.* \ 

^ In estimating the military character of Gen- \ 

J eral Greene, facts authorized the inference that ;; 

\ he possessed a genius adapted by nature to > 

military command. After resorting to arms, s 

his attainment to rank was much more rapid s 

than that of any other officer our country has < 

produced ; perhaps the most rapid that history J 

records. These offices, so high in responsibility j; 

and honour, were conferred on him, not as ^ 

matters of personal favour or family influence, ^ 

nor yet through the instrumentality of political ij 

intrigue. They were rewards of pre-eminent \ 

merit, and tokens of recog;nised fitness for the \ 

highest functions of military service. < 

It is said, that on his very first appearance \ 

in the camp at Cambridge, from the ardour of J 

* General Greene left behind him a wife and five children. i 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 73 J 



< his zeal, unremitted activity, and strict attention i 



] to every duty, he was pronounced by soldiers j 

•; of distinction,* a man of real military genius. \ 

\ *' His knowledge," said General Knox to a J 

J distinguished citizen of South Carolina, " is \ 

J intuitive. He came to us the rawest and most ] 

\ untutored being I ever met with ; but in less \ 

\ than twelve months he was equal in military \ 

\ knowledge to any general officer in the army, \ 

\ and very superior to most of them." Even the \ 

\ enemy he conquered did homage to his pre- j 

j eminent talents for war. Tarlton, who had ^ 

J strong ground to know him, is reported to j 

■; have pronounced him, on a public occasion, ) 

;; the most able and accomplished commander \ 

J that America had produced. s 

\ When acting under the order of others, he 

never failed to discharge, to their satisfaction, < 

^ the duties intrusted to him, however arduous. 



I; 

\ But it is the southern department of the Union ? 

;; that constitutes the theatre of his achievements j 

^ and fame. It was there, where his views were < 

[ unshackled and his genius free, that, by per- ^ 

\ forming the part of a great captain, he erected ^ 

'^ for himself a monument of reputation, durable j' 

i; * Colonel Pickering and others. 



S 74 HEROES OF THE K EVOLUTION. ', 

I as history, lofty as victor}^ and conquest could '? 

i render it, and brightened by all that glory could ; 

^ bestow. \ 

\ In compliment to his brilliant successes, the j 

I hivalric De la Luzerne, the minister of France, j 

j who, as a knight of Malta, must be considered ) 

< as a competent judge of military merit, thus | 

J speaks of him : " Other generals subdue their j 

l- enemies by the means with which their country > 

",; or their sovereign furnished them, but Greene s 

^ appears to subdue his enemy by his own means. s 

^ He commenced his campaign without either an J 

J army, provisions, or military stores. He has \ 

i asked for nothing since, and 3'et scarcely a post > 

\ arrives from the south that does not bring } 

> intelligence of some new advantage gained < 

5 over his foe. He conquers by magic. History J 

I furnishes no parallel to this." ' '1 



\ On the 12th of August, of the year in '^ 

\ which the general died, the Congress of the ^ 

\ United States unanimously resolved, " That a J 

\ monument be erected to the memory of the J 

I; Honourable Nathaniel Greene, at the seat of i 

\ the federal government, with the following J 
inscription : 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 



75 



§ The United States, in Congress 

assembled, in honour of 



<] SACRED 5 

\ to the Memory of the | 

J HON. NATHANIEL GREENE, 

ij who departed this Life J 

\ the 19th of June, MDCCLXXXVI, j 

J - late Major-General in the J 

i Service of the U. S. and 



s 

I Commander of the Army in the ^ 

Southern Department. ^ 






HIS PATRIOTISM, VALOUR, AND ABILITY, 

have erected this 

MONUMENT. < 



;< To the disgrace of the nation, no monument '^ 

) has been erected ; nor, for the want of a head- > 

< stone, can any one at present designate the spot j 

^ where the relics of the Hero of the South lie J; 

interred. '' 



w-J--r.-v.-.^-un.-v.-i 



J DANIEL MORGAN, 

f Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
I* 

«> 

\ General Morgan was the creator of his own 

\ fortune. Born of poor, though honest parents, 

J he enjoyed none of the advantages which result ;> 

'] from wealth and early education. But his ;! 

? was a spirit that would not tamely yield to ^ 

<; difficulties. j 

f^ " He was born in New Jersey, where, from I' 

'^ his poverty and low condition, he had been a \ 

•'■ day-labourer. To early education and breeding, '' 



therefore, he owed nothing. But for this de- 
ficiency his native sagacity and sound judgment, 5 
\ and his intercourse with the best society, made ;; 
much amends in after life. J 
" Enterprising in his disposition, even now \ 
s he removed to Virginia, in 1755, with a hope i 
and expectation of improving his fortune. \ 
Here he continued, at first, his original business | 
o^ day-labour : but exchanged it afterward for \ 
the employment of a wagoner. j 
"His military novitiate he served in the J 
campaign under the unfortunate Braddock. j 
The rank he bore is not precisely known. It j 
76 \ 



DANIEL MORGAN. 77 



of Morgan he never practically remembered 



must, however, have been humble ; for, in <; 

> consequence of imputed contumely towards a ) 

J British officer, he was brought to the halbert, ! 

J and received the inhuman punishment of five 

\ hundred lashes ; or, according to his own state- 

'<; ment, of four hundred and ninety-nine ; for he 

always asserted that the drummer charged with 
'^ the execution of the sentence, miscounted and ? 

\ jocularly added, ^ That George the Third was ^ 

\ still indebted to him one lash.' To the honour s 



J this savage treatment during the revolutionary < 

^ war. Towards the British officers whom the J 

;> fortune of battle placed within his power, his ? 

conduct was humane, mild, and gentlemanly. ;J 



^ ^^. .^^ ...^ ^^^V*XXX XXV^X,. ^XXX^ V.«.X.X^^^X^li, V.^W ^ 



^ "After his return from this campaign, so •'- 



inordinately was he addicted to quarrels and ;; 

boxing matches, that the village of Berrystown, j 

in the county of Frederick, which constituted J 

the chief theatre of his pugilistic exploits, re- > 

ceived, from this circumstance, the name of f; 

Battletown. > 

" In these combats, although frequently over- \ 

matched in personal strength, he manifested s 

the same unyielding spirit which characterized j 

him afterward in his military career. When J 

worsted by his antagonist, he would pause for ^ 



78 



HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



a time, to recruit his strength, and then return 

to the contest, again and again, until he rarely i 

failed to prove victorious. j 

" Equally marked w^as his invincibility of ^ 

spirit in maturer age, u'hen raised, by fortune J 

and his own merit, to a higher and more J 

honourable field of action. Defeat in battle -1 

he rarely experienced ; but when he did, his s 

retreat was sullen, stern, and dangerous. \ 

" The commencement of the American re- I 

volution found Mr. Morgan married and culti- ;j 

vating a farm, which, by industry and economy, J 

he had been enabled to purchase, in the county \ 

\ of Frederick. ^ 

^ "Placed at the head of a rifle company, ^ 

5 raised in his neighbourhood in 1775, he marched ^ 

5 immediately to the American head-quarters in J 

J Cambridge, near Boston. J; 

^ "By order of the commander-in-chief, he ^ 

<; soon afterward joined in the expedition against ^ 

? Quebec, and was made prisoner in the attempt J 

^ on that fortress, where Arnold was wounded, ! 

^ and Montgomery fell. J 

\ " During the assault, his darmg valour and j 

s persevering gallantry attracted the notice and j 

admiration of the enemy. j 
" The assailing column to which he belonged 



DANIEL MORGAN. 79 



! was led by Major Arnold. When that officer j; 

I was wounded, and carried from the ground. J 

;. Morgan threw himself into the lead, and, I 

'] rushing forward, passed the first and second I 

'<\ barriers. For a moment, victory appeared j 

J certain. But the fall of Montgomery closing j 

^ the prospect, the assailants were repulsed, and ! 

I the enterprise abandoned. During his captivity, ) 

I Captain Morgan was treated with great kind- \ 

< ness, and not a little distinction. He was re- I 
f peatedly visited in confinement by a British 
J officer of rank, who at length made an attempt 

< on his patriotism and virtue, by offering him 
J the commission and emoluments of colonel in 
s' the British army, on condition that he would 
j desert the A merican and join the royal standard. 
j " Morgan rejected the proposal with scorn, 
1; and requested the courtly and corrupt negoti- 
;. ator 'never again to insult him in his misfor- 
j; tunes by an offer which plainly implied that he 
I thought him a villian.' The officer withdrew, 
J and did not again recur to the subject. 
^ " On being exchanged, Morgan immediately 
j rejoined the American army, and received, by 
; the recommendation of General Washino-ton, 

the command of a regiment. 

^ "III the year 1777, he was placed at the 



80 



HEROES OF THE EEVOLUTION. 



head of a select rifle corps, with which, in J 

j various instances, he acted on the enemy with 1; 

{ terrible effect. His troops were considered the ^ 

^ most dangerous in the American service. To \ 

\ confront them in the field was almost certain \ 

\ death to the British officers. \ 

s "On the occasion of the capture of Bur- J 

^ goyne, the exertions and services of Colonel ^ 

^ Morgan and his riflemen were beyond all praise. ,^ 

J Much of the glory of the achievement be- \ 

J longed to them. Yet so gross was the injustice \ 

s' of General Gates, that he did not even mention < 

;! them in his official despatches. His reason for \ 

< this was secret and dishonourable. Shortly > 

s' after the surrender of Burgoyne, General Gates j 

I; took occasion to hold with Morgan a private ) 

'\ conversation. In the course of this he told \ 

;> him confidentially, that the main army was \ 

s' exceedingly dissatisfied with the conduct of J 

\ General Washington ; that the reputation of 1; 

5 the commander-in-chief was rapidly declining; j 

\ and that several officers of great worth threat- ] 

\ ened to resign, unless a change were produced s 

\ m that department. ^ 

s " Colonel Morgan fathoming in an instant 

\ the views of his commanding officer, sternly, 

\ and with honest indignation, replied, * Sir, I 



-_-\.-w^/-^_-u-' 



DANIEL MORGAN. 8l > 

S 

.; have one favour to ask. Never asrain mention s 

5 to me this hateful subject ; under no other man j 

j! but General Washington, as commander-in- j 

^ chief, will I ever serve.' I 

j " From that moment ceased the intimacy ; 

\ that had previously subsisted between him and J 

I General Gates. \ 

i " A few days afterward the general gave a < 

> "dinner to the principal officers of the British, J 
I and some of those of the American army. 1; 
j IMorgan was not invited. In the course of the ^ 
I evening, that officer found it necessary to call l^' 
<", on General Gates, on official business. Being J 

> * introduced into the dining-room, he spoke to |; 

> the general, received his orders, and immedi- ^ 
j ately withdrew, his name unannounced. Per- '> 
^ ceiving, from his dress, that he was of high > 

< rank, the British officers inquired his name. (> 
Beino; told that it was Colonel Morgan, com- > 
manding the rifle corps, they rose from the 
table, followed him into the yard, and in 
troduced themselves to him, with many conv 
plimentary and flattering expressions, declaring 

< ihat, on the day of action, they had very se- 
J verely felt him in the field. 
J " In 1780, having obtained leave of absence 
i from the army on account of the shattered 
< 



82 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



J cause his country had a claim on him, in any 

> quarter where he could promote her interest ; 

) but personal attachment must not be expected 

j to exist where he had experienced nothing but 

I neglect and injustice.' 

\ " The two officers parted, mutually dissatit;- 

j fied ; the one, on account of past treatment ; 

\ the other, of the recent interview. 



^ condition of his health, he retired to his estate ( 

'^ . . . '' 

^ in the county of Frederick, and remained ^ 

^ " there until the appointment of General Gates ') 

;J to the command of the southern al-my. j 

5 " Being waited on by the latter, and re- i 

J; quested to accompany him, he reminded him, -; 

^ in expressions marked by resentment, of the ■ 

\ unworthy treatment he had formerly experi- \ 

i enced from him, in return for the important ) 

''\ services which, he did not hesitate to assert, he j 

5 had rendered him in his operations against the \ 

<] army of General Burgoyne. J 

> " Having received no acknowledgement, nor J; 

;> even civility, for aiding to decorate him with { 

{ laurels in the north, he frankly declared that 1; 

i there were no considerations, except of a < 

public nature, that could induce him to co- ;I 

operate in his campaigns to the south. ' Mo- \, 



I 

I tives of public good might influence him ; be- <; 



j DANIEL MORGAN. 83 ; 

\ " In the course of a few weeks afterward, \ 
I Congress having promoted Colonel Morgan to 

j the rank of brigadier-general by brevet, with \ 
J a view to avail themselves of his services in 

< the south, he proceeded without delay to join ■; 
<; the army of General Gates. But he was pre- 

^ vented from serving any length of time under J 

that officer, by his defeat near Camden, before ? 

his arrival, and his being soon afterward super- I; 

seded in command by General Greene. (• 

" " Soon after taking command of the southern J 

army. General Greene despatched General < 

Mor2;an with four hundred continentals under \ 

Colonel Howard, Colonel Washington's corps .; 

of dragoons, and a few militia, amounting in !> 

all to about six hundred, to take position on > 

the left of the British army, then lying at ;! 

Winnsborough, under Lord Cornwallis, while ^ 

he took post about seventy miles to his right. i 

I This judicious disposition excited his lordship's j 

s apprehensions for the safety of Ninety-Six and J 

s Augusta, British posts, which he considered as 'j 

|i menaced by the movements of Morgan. < 

s' *•' Colonel Tarleton, with a strong detachment, \ 

\' amounting, in horse and foot, to near a thousand f 

,< men, was immediately despatched by Corn- ' 

I wallis to the protection of Ninetv-Six, with J 

I 1 



84f HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



orders to bring General Morgan, if possible, to ? 

battle. To the ardent temper and chivalrous ^ 

disposition of the British colonel this direction \ 

was perfectly congenial. Greatly superior in J 

] numbers, he advanced on Morgan with a mena- i 

i cing aspect, and compelled him, at first, to fall j 

< back rapidly. But the retreat of the American j 
j commander was not long continued. Irritated j 

by pursuit, reinforced by a body of militia, and ^ 

reposing great confidence in the spirit and \ 

firmness of his regular troops, he halted at the I; 

Cowpens, and determined to gratify his ad- > 

versary in his eagerness for combat. This was ;j 

' on the night of the 16th of January, 1781. ^! 

I Early in the morning of the succeeding day J 

s Tarleton, being apprised of the situation of < 

J Morgan, pressed towards him with a redoubled J 

i rapidity, lest, by renewing his retreat, he should / 

? agrain elude him. |. 

) " But Morgan now had other thoughts than ^ 

\ those of flight. Already had he, for several ;; 

\ days, been at war with himself in relation to I 

< his conduct. Glorying in action, his spirit re- f; 
s coiled from the humilation of retreat, and his \> 
i resentment was roused by the insolence of I 

pursuit. This mental conflict becoming more I 

intolerable to him than disaster or death, his '«; 



--^-j--r-.-<.^.n.-^j 



DANIEL MORGAN. 



85 



courage triumphed, perhaps, over his prudence, J 

and he resolved on putting every thing to the j 

hazard of the sword. | 

"By military men who have studied the j 

subject, his disposition for battle is said to have i 



been masterly. Two light parties of militia 
J were advanced in front, with order to feel the 



s 
> 

<', head. At a suitable distance in the rear of the 



i enemy as they approached ; and preserving a J 

^ desultory, well aimed fire, as they fell back to ^ 

^> the front line, to range with it, and renew the j 

conflict. The main body of the militia com- '• 

posed this line, with General Pickens at its '^ 



^ first line, a second was stationed, composed of ^ 

^ the continental infantry and two companies of < 

i Virginia militia, commanded by Colonel How- > 

} ard. Washington's cavalry, reinforced with a '<- 

;J company of mounted militia, armed with } 

< sabres, was held in reserve. j 
\ "Postinor himself then in the line of the 

i regulars, he waited in silence the advance of < 

!> the enemy. \ 

\ " Tarleton coming in sight, hastily formed i 

\ his disposition for battle, and commenced the ^ 

K .tssault. Of this conflict, the following picture ) 

< IS from the pen of General Lee : < 
? ' The American light parties quickly yielded, ;! 



l-^- 




86 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



fell back, and arrayed with Pickens. The ) 

enemy shouting, rushed forward upon the front ^ 

line, which retained its station, and poured in a \ 

close fire j but continuing to advance with the s 

bayonet on our militia, they retired, and gained j 

with haste the second line. Here, with part I; 

of the corps, Pickens took post on Howard's \ 

right, and the rest fled to their horses, probably 5 

with orders to remove them to a further ? 

distance. Tarleton pushed forward, and was s 



[; received by his adversary with unshaken firm > 

5 ness. The contest became obstinate ; and each ^ 



party, animated by the example of its leader, ^ 

nobly contended for victory. Our line main- ^ 

tained itself so firmly as to oblige the enemy < 

to order up his reserve. The advance of I; 

M' Arthur reanimated the British line, which \ 

again moved forward, and outstretching our \ 

front, endangered Colonel Howard's right. ^ 

This officer instantly took measures to defend 
his flank, by directing his right company to 
change its front ; but, mistaking this order, the 
company fell back ; upon which the line be- 
gan to retire, and General Morgan directed it 
to retreat to the cavalry. This manoeuvre j 

being performed with precision, our flank be- ^ 

came relieved, and the new position was 



> 

J DANIEL MORGAN. 




One hundred, including ten officers, were killed; 
twenty-three efficers and five hundred private.? 



assumed with promptitude. Considering this \ 

retrograde movement the precursor of flight, ^ 

the British line rushed on with impetuosity and S 

5 disorder; but as it di'ew near, Howard faced 

I about, and gave it a close and murderous fire. j 

Ij Stunned by this unexpected shock, the most j 

j advanced of the enemy recoiled in. confusion. j 

J Howard seized the happy moment, and followed <; 

^ his advantage with the bayonet. This decisive \ 

\ step gave us the day. The reserve having been \ 

c, brought near the line, shared in the destruction s 

> of our fire, and presented no rallying point to J 
^ the fugitives. A part of the enemy's cavalry s 
i having gained our rear, fell on that portion of <J 
;. the militia who had retired to their horses. j 
I Washington struck at them with his dragoons, \ 
J and drove them before him. Thus, by a si- |. 
f multaneous effort, the infantry and cavalry of 
^ the enemy were routed. Morgan pressed home 
;- his success, and the pursuit became vigorous J 
i and general.' <>^ 
;; " In this decisive battle we lost about seventy > 
$ men, of whom twelve only were killed. The '» 
I British infantry, with the exception of the J 

> baggage guard, were nearly all killed or taken. s' 



i ] 






^ op HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. J 

\ '< 

> were caken. The artillery, eight hundred '; 

s muskets, two standards, thirty-five baggage \ 

< wagons, and one hundred dragoon horses, fell ^ 

< into our possession." s 
\ In this battle, so glorious to the American \ 
J arms, Tarleton had every advantage in point of \ 
\ ground, cavalry, and numbers, aided by two ^ 



) prodigal of the exposure of his person to 



< danger, or manifested a more deliberate disre- 

\ gard of death ; yet, so strong was his love of 



< pieces of artillery. 



Soon after this brilliant exploit, frequent < 

i attacks of the rheumatism compelled General J; 

^' Morgan to retire from the army, and he re- 1; 

i turned to his seat in Frederick, Virj^-inia, where i 

^ he continued in retirement until the insurreo* > 

I tion in the western part of Pennsylvania, in 

I 1794, when he was detached by the executive 

s' of Virginia, at the head of the militia quota 

> of that state, to suppress it. This done, he re- 

i turned into the bosom of his family, where he 

\ remained until death closed his eanhly career, 

\ in 1799. 

s " There existed in the character of General 

\ Morgan a singular contradiction, which is 

worthy of notice. 

" Althouo;h in battle no man was ever more 



DANIEL MORGAN. 89 



I life at other times, that he has been frequently J 

^ heard to declare, ' he would agree to pass half \ 

; his time as a galley-slave, rather than quit this \ 

'(^ world for another.' j 

\ "The following outline of his person and ;. 

[ character is from the pen of a mil tary friend, J 

\ who knew him intimately : J 

^ ♦ * Brigadier-General Morgan was stout and \ 

< active, six feet in height, strong, not too much \ 

\ encumbered with flesh, and was exactly fitted \ 

\ for the toils and pomp of war. His mind was j 

f. discriminating and solid, but not comprehensive j 

\ and combining. His manners plain and dec- \ 

\ orous, neither insinuating nor repulsive. His \ 

\ conversation grave, sententious, and considerate, J 

j unadorned, and uncaptivating. He reflected ^ 

^ deeply, spoke little, and executed, with keen \ 

j perseverance, whatever he undertook. \ 

\ " A considerable time before his death, when \ 

:^ the pressure of infirmity began to be heavy, he \ 

,< became seriously concerned about his future \ 

\ welfare. From that period, his chief solace '^' 

] lay in the study of the Scriptures, and in de- J, 

\ votional exercises. He died in the belief of \ 

J the truths of Christianity, and in full commu- \ 

\ nion with the Presbyterian Church." ? 




JOHN STARK, 

Brioadier-Genera-j in the American Army. > 

General Stark was a native of New-Hamp- s 

shire, and was born in Londonderry, August ', 

17th, 1728. From his early youth he had ^ 

been accustomed to the alarm of war, having; \ 

lived in that part of the country which was \ 

continually subject to the incursions of the ^ 

savages. While a child, he was captured by \ 

them, and adopted as one of their own j but J 

after a few years was restored. \ 

Arrived at manhood, his manners were plain, J 

honest, and severe ; excellently calculated for \ 

the benefit of society in the private walks of \ 

life ; and as a courageous and heroic soldier, \ 



< to whom a large share of glory is justly due. 

\ He was captain of a company of rangers in 

> the provincial service during the French war, 

> in 1755. 

s From the commencement of the difficulties 

j with the mother country, until the closing 

i scene of the revolution, our country found in 
90 



< he is entitled to a high rank among those who \ 

\ have been crowned with unfading laurels, and \ 



-_-v.n,-_-----w--^^-^- 



JOHN STARK. 91 



General Stark one of its most resolute, inde- 
pendent, and persevering defenders. The first 



1 



J- call of his country found him ready. When j 

^ the report of Lexington battle reached him, he \ 

;; was engaged at work in his saw-mill: fired \ 

< with indignation and a martial spirit, he imme- ;! 

^ diately seized his musket, and with a band of s 

^ heroes proceeded to Cambridge. The morning J 

j after his arrival, he received a colonel's com- / 

"f mission, and availing himself of his own I 

I popularity, and the enthusiasm of the day, in ^ 

;> two hours he enlisted eight hundred men. On s 

J the memorable 17th of June, at Breed's Hill, '< 

i Colonel Stark, at the head of his backwoods- ;; 

I; men of New-Hampshire, poured on the enemy i 

"> that deadly fire, from a sure aim, which effected \ 

'^ such remarkable destruction in their ranks, and ^ 

s compelled them twice to retreat. During the ^ 

\ whole of this dreadful conflict, Colonel Stark ), 

i evinced that consummate bravery and intrepid s 

? zeal, which entitle his name to perpetual \ 

I remembrance. j 

I His spirit pervaded his native state, and ex- j 

j cited them to the most patriotic efforts. The ^ 

British General Burgoyne, in one of his letters, J 

observes, " That the Hampshire Grants, almost ^, 

unknown in the last war, now abound in the j 



92 HEKOES OF THE REVOLUTION. j 

I, 

I most active and most rebellious race on the ? 

\ continent, and hang like a gathering storm upon \ 

I my left." s 

< Distinct from his efforts in rallying the < 

i energies of his native state, he obtained great J 

<; credit in the active operations of the field. At j 

^ that gloomy period of the revolution, the re- > 

\ treat of Washington through New Jersey, in s 

5 1776, when the saviour of our country, appa- j 

^ rently deserted of heaven and by his country, s 

J with the few gallant spirits who gathered the j 

I closer around him in that dark hour, precipi- j 

J tately fled before an imperious and victorious j 

J enemy — it was on this occasion tiiat the per- s 

5, severing valour of Stark enrolled him among < 

s the firm and resolute defenders of their country j ^ 

\ and, with them, entitles him to her unceasing / 

gratitude. J 

But as he fearlessly shared with Washington > 

the dark and gloomy night of defeat, so also j 

he participated with him in the joy of a bright J 

morning of victory and hope. In the sue- S 

cessful enterprise against Trenton, Stark, then J 

a colonel, acted a conspicuous part, and covered ? 

himself with glory. General Wilkinson, in j 

his memoirs, says, " I must not withhold due s 
praise from the dauntless Stark who dealt death 



JOHN STARK. 93 



} wherever he found resistance, and broke down <, 



;, all opposition before him." i 

i Soon after this affair, Colonel Stark, from \ 

j some supposed injustice toward him on the ? 

\ part of Congress, quitted the continental ser- 5 

j vice, and returned to New Hampshire. j 

J " When he was urged by the government of j 

< New Hampshire to take the command {^f their s 

S militia, he refused, unless he should be at \ 

^ liberty to serve or not, under a continental \ 

f officer, as he should judge proper. It was not i 

j a time for debate, and it was known that the ;! 

^ militia would follow wherever Stark would \ 

I lead. The assembly therefore invested him ^ 

i with a separate command, and gave him orders ? 

i, to 'repair to Charlestown, on Connecticut 1; 

?' River ; there to consult with a committee of \ 

the New Hampshire Grants respecting his < 

future operations, and the supply of his men < 

with provisions ; to take the command of the J; 

militia, and march into the Grants ; to act in d 

conjunction with the troops of that new state, ;• 

or any other of the states, or of the United 5 

States, or separately, as it should appear ex- J 

pedient to him, for the protection of the i 



'•\ people and the annoyance of the enemy.' " i 

J Agreeably to his orders, Stark proceeded, in \ 



I 94f HEROES OF THE REVOLUTICiN. 

I a few days, to Charlestown ; his men very 

] readily followed, and, as fast as they arrived, 

j he sent them forward to join the troops of s 

s Vermont under Colonel Warner, who had \ 

j aken his situation at Manchester. At that { 

-; place he joined Warner with about eight J 

.> hundred men from New Hampshire, and found \ 

> another body of men from Vermont, who put ^ 

^ themselves under his command j and he was at \ 

I the head of fourteen hundred men. Most of ^ 

;; them had been in the two former campaigns, \ 

^ and well officered ; and were, in every respect, > 

j a body of very good troops. Schuyler re- ^ 

^ peatedly urged Stark to join the troops under ^ 

< his command, but he declined complying. He ^^ 
\ was led to this conduct not only by the reasons < 

< which have been mentioned, but by a difference \ 
\ of opinion as to the best method of opposing 1; 
/ Burgoyne. Schuyler wished to collect all the ^ 
\ American troops in the front, to prevent Bur- 
s gojne from marching on to Albany. Stark 
s was of opinion that the surest way to check 

Burgoyne was to have a body of men on his 
rear, ready to fall upon him in that quarter, 
whenever a favourable opportunity should pre- 
sent. The New England militia had no( 
formed a high opinion of Schuyler as 






j JOHN STARK. 95 S 

J general; and Stark meant to keep himself in a j 

J situation in which he might embrace any 

^ favourable opportunity for action, either in 

,s conjunction with him, or otherwise j and with 

J that view intended to hang on the rear of the 

i British troops, and embrace the first opportu- \ 

J nity which should present, to make an attack \ 

\ upon that quarter. But Stark assured Schuyler I; 

5 that he would join in any measure necessary to I- 

;> promote the public good, but wished to avoid ij 

s' any thing that was not consistent with his own s 

J honour ; and if it was thought necessary, he < 

< would march to his camp. He wrote particu- < 

J larly, that he would lay aside al) private re- j 

S fjpntmpnt. •whpn if aDnparprl in nnnnsitinn fr» jl 



sentment, when it appeared in opposition to 

;i the public good. But in the midst of these 

j protestations he was watching for an opportu- J> 

J nity to discover his courage and patriotism, by J 

< falling upon some part of Burgoyne's army. ^ 
? While the American army was thus assu- i 
J ming a more respectable appearance. General > 
^ Burgoyne was making very slow advances I 
s towards Albany. From the 28th of July to I 

< the 15th of August, the British army was con- s 
i tinually employed in bringing forward batteaux, J 
r; provisions, and ammuniton, fro-m Fort George ;; 
^ to the first navigable part of Hudson's River , ^ 



96 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



<; f 

\ a distance of not more than eighteen miles. J 

c The labour was excessive ; the Europeans were { 

i but little acquainted with the methods of per- ^ 

i forming it to advantage, and the effect was in \ 

) no degree equivalent to the expense of labour J 

( and time. With all the efforts that Burgoyne j 

I could make, encumbered with his artillery and •'l 

\ baggage, his labours were inadequate to the J 

j purpose of supplying the army with provisions j 

\ for its daily consumption, and the establishment ;; 

I of the necessary magazines. And after his > 

I utmost exertions for fifteen days, there were < 

< not above four day's provisions in the store, < 

/ nor above ten batteaux in Hudson's River. ^ 

j In such circumstances, the British general < 

j found that it would be impossible to procure ? 

sufficient supplies of provisions by the way of > 

Fort George, and determined to replenish his s 

own magazines at the expense of those of the j 

Americans. Having received information that ? 

a large quantity of stores were laid up at Ben- J 

nington, and guarded only by the militia, he ? 

^ formed the design of surprising that place ; and j 

•^ was made to believe that as soon as a detach- ^ 

J ment of the royal army should appear in that ^ 

.; quarter, it would receive effectual assistance <, 

> from a large body of loyalists, who only waited <• 



JOHN STARK. 97 

for the appearance of a support, and would in I 

that event come forward and aid the royai j 

cause. Full of these expectations, he detached t, 

Colonel Baum, a German officer, with a select j 

body of troops, to surprise the place. His \ 

force consisted of about five hundred regular ^ 

troops, some Canadians, and more than one J 

hundred Indians, with two light pieces of ar- <; 

tillery. To facilitate their operations, and to \ 

be ready to take advantage of the success of ? 

> the detachment, the royal arnjy moved along^ ^ 

the east bank of Hudson's River, and encamped ,■- 

I 



!> nearly opposite to Saratoga ; having, at the 

\ same time, thrown a bridge of rafts over the 

;! river, by which the army passed to that place. ^ 

< With a view to support Baum, if it should be ^ 
^ found necessary, Lieutenant-Colonel Breyman's \ 
j corps, consisting of the Brunswick grenadiers, 'J 
\ light infantry, and chasseurs, were posted at j 
s Battenkill. > 

< General Stark having received information i 
that a party of Indians were at Cambridge, sent j 
Lieutenant-Colonel Greg, on August the 13th, J 
with a party of two hundred men, to stop their 
progress. Toward night he was informed by 
express that a large body of regulars was in 
the rear of the Indians, and advancing toward 



L 



98 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Bennington. On this intelligence, Stark drew 
J together his brigade, and the militia that were 

t; at hand, and sent on to Manchester, to Colonel 

!• Warner, to bring on his regiment ; he sent ex- 

\ presses at the same time to the neighbouring 

;. militia, to join him with the utmost speed. 

^ On the morning of the 14th, he marched with 

^ his troops, and at the distance of seven miles 

J he met Greg on the retreat, and the enemy 

;j within a mile of him. Stark drew up his 

^ troops in order of battle; but the enemy, J 

jj coming in sight, halted upon a very advanta- \ 

f, geous piece of ground. Baum perceived the s 

Americans were too strong to be attacked with J 

his present force, and sent an express to Bur- < 

goyne with an account of his situation, and to J 

have Breyman march immediately to support ^ 

him. In the meantime small parties of the ^ 

\ Americans kept up a skirmish with the enemy, I 

^ killed and wounded thirty of them, with two I 

j; of their Indian chiefs, without any loss to < 

^ themselves. The ground the Americans had i 

^ taken was unfavourable for a general action, \ 

5 and Stark retreated about a mile, and encamped. j 

\ A council of war was held, and it was agreed 5 

< to send two detachments upon the enomy's J 

i resar, while the rest of the troops should make j 






'n 
^ 



JOHN STAR.K. J^ 



an attack upon their front. The next day the > 

weather was rainy, and though it prevented a -: 

general action, there were frequent skirmishes j 

in small parties, which proved favourable and ) 

encourao-ino; to the Americans. s 

On August the 16th, in the morning. Stark j 

was joined by Colonel Symonds and a body of i 

militia from Berkshire, and proceeded to attack [ 

the enemy, agreeably to the plan which had ) 

been concerted. Colonel Baum in the meantime \ 

had entrenched on an advantageous piece of s 

ground near St. Koick's mills, on a branch of ;; 

Hoosic River ; and rendered his post as strong s 

as his circumstances and situation would admit. ij 

Colonel Nichols was detached with two hun- > 

dred men to the rear of his left. Colonel Her- < 

rick with three hundred men to the rear of his s 

right ; both were to join, and then make the ^ 

attack. Colonels Hubbard and Stickney, with J 

two hundred men, were ordered on the right, J 

and one hundred were advanced towards the ^ 

front, to draw the attention of the enemy that J 

way. About three o'clock in the afternoon ;! 

the troops had taken their station, and were < 

ready to commence the action. While Nichols § 

and Herrick were bringing their troops together, ^ 

the Indians were alarmed at the prospect, and \ 



100 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



< pushed off between the two corps; but re- ,; 



ceived a fire as they were passing, by which 

> three of them were killed and two wounded. \ 

■? Nichols then began the attack, and was followed s 

s by all the other divisions ; those in the front «) 

\ immediately advanced, and in a few minutes (' 

[; the action became general. It lasted about two ij 

J hours, and was like one continued peal of ^ 

j thunder. Baum made a brave defence; and < 

s the German dragoons, after they had expended J 

s their ammunition, led by their colonel, charged ^ 

S with their swords, but they were soon over- J 

? powered. Their works were carried on all ^, 

S sides, their two pieces of cannon were taken, ^ 

Colonel Baum himself was mortally wounded ^ 

and taken prisoner, and all his men, except a ^ 

few who had escaped into the woods, were j 

either killed or taken prisoners. Having com- \ 

pleted the business by taking the whole party, \ 

the militia began to disperse and look out for \ 

plunder. But in a few minutes Stark received !> 

information that a large reinforcement was on J 

their march, and within two miles of him. \ 

Fortunately at that moment Colonel Warner \ 

came up with his regiment from Manchester. ) 

This brave and experienced officer commanded ) 
a regiment of continental troops, which had 



JOIIN STARK. lOl 



been raised in Vermont. Mortified that he had I^ 

not been in the former engagement, he instantly J 

led on his men against Breyman, and began j 

\ the second engagement. Stark collected the \ 

\ militia as soon as possible, and pushed on to his 

\ assistance. The action became general, and 

J " the battle continued obstinate on both sides 

5 till sunset, when the Germans were forced to 

s give way, and were pursued till dark. They 

\ left their two field-pieces behind, and a con- 

^ siderable number were made prisoners. The}*- 

? retreated in the best manner they could, im- 

;; proving the advantages of the evening and 

;> night, to which alone their escape was ascribed. 

) In these actions the Americans took four 

) orass field-pieces, twelve brass drums, two J 

\ hundred and fifty dragoon swords, four ammu- < 

> nition wagons, and about seven hundred prison- > 

\ ers, with their arms and accoutrements. Two \ 
hundred and seven men were found dead upon ^ 

< the spot, the numbers of wounded were un- \ 

\ known. The loss of the Americans was but ;; 

s small ; thirty were slain, and about forty were J; 

J wounded. Stark was not a little pleased at ^ 

\ having so fair an opportunity to vindicate his > 

J own conduct. He had now shoAvn that no ne- ;j 

\ gleet from Congress had made him di«affected j^ 

\ \ 



i.-«-v.-t-\^^_-\,-\.-^-_-'.^--->----^-v---. 



102 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



1 



b to the American cause, and that he had ren- ^ 

I dered a much more important service than he ^ 

< could have done by joining Schuyler, and re- j 
J maining inactive in his camp. Congress em- \ 
i braced the opportunity to assign to him his i 

> rank; and though he had not given to them j 
I any account of his victory, or wrote to them J 
^ at all upon the subject, on October the fourth J 
>, they resolved, " That the thanks of Congress s 
J be presented to General Stark, of the New- "i 
i Hampshire militia, and the officers and troops I; 

> under his command, for their brave and sue- \ 
^ cessful attack upon, and signal victory over ij 
s the enemy, in their lines at Bennington: and v 
•j that Brigadier Stark be appointed a brigadier- \ 
I; general in the army of the United States." J 
.; And never were thanks more deserved, or more ^ 
? wisely given to a military officer. > 
j " In his official account of the affair. General ^ 
J Stark thus writes: *It lasted two hours, the '< 
I hottest I ever saw in my life ; it represented one \ 

< continued clap of thunder : however, the enemy i 
\ were obliged to give way, and leave their field- \ 
\ pieces and all their baggage behind them : they \ 
■ were all environed within two breast-works \ 
\ with artillery ; but our martial courage proved ;,' 
\ too strcng for them. I then gave orders to rail}' \ 



_-S 



j JOHN STARK. 103 

i 

J again, in order to secure the victory ; but in a 

j few minutes was informed that there was a 

s large reinforcement on their march, within 

^ two miles. Colonel Warner's regiment luckily 

\ coming up at the moment, renewed the attack 

J with fresh vigour. I pushed forward as many 

\ of the men as I could to their assistance ; the 

\ battle continued obstinate on both sides until 

> sunset J the enemy was obliged to retreat ; we 

|; pursued them till dark, and had day lasted an 

;; hour longer, should have taken the whole body 

J; of them.' 

\ " On what small events does the popular 

\ humour and military success depend I The cap- 

^ ture of one thousand Germans by General 

Washington, at Trenton, had served to wake up, 
and save the whole continent. The exploit of 
Stark at Bennington, operated with the same 
kind of influence, and produced a similar effect. 
This victory was the first event that had 
proved encouraging to the Americans in the 
northern department, since the death of General 
Montgomery. Misfortune had succeeded mis- 
fortune, and defeat had followed defeat from 
that period till now. The present instance was 
the first in which victory had quitted the royal 
standard, or seemed even to be wavering. She 



r 



104» HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 




^ was now found with the American arms, and 

1^ the effect seemed, in fact, to be greater than the 

^ cause. It raised the spirit of the country to an 

^, uncommon degree of animation; and by 

s showing the militia what they could perform, 

J rendered them willing and desirous to turn out 

< and try what fortunes would await their ex- 
\ ertions. It had a still greater eifect on the I 
} royal army. The British generals were sur- > 
\ prised to hear that an enemy whom they had < 
s contemplated with no other feelings than those i 
J of contempt, should all at once wake up, and < 
'( discover much of the spirit of heroism. To 2 
I advance upon the mouth of cannon, to attack '• 
f fortified lines, to carry strong entrenchments, { 
' were exploits which they supposed belonged ^ 
J exclusively to the armies of kings. To see a J 
^ body of American militia, ill dressed, but little < 
j disciplined, without cannon, armed only with i 
^ farmers' guns, without bayonets, and who had !^ 

been accustomed to fly at their approach ; that '? 

such men should force the entrenchments, cap- s 

ture the cannon, kill and make prisoners of a < 

large body of the royal army, was a matter of j 

§ indignation, astonishment and surprise." ^ 

< "General Stark volunteered his services ^ 
<; under General Gates at Saratoga, and assisted in I 



f 

> JOHN STARK. ~ 105 



advanced age of ninety-three years, eight 
months, and twenty-four days, and died May 
8th, 1822/' 



"^ 



s ^he council which stipulated the surrender of ; 

J General Burgoyne ; nor did he relinquish his ; 

<; valuable services till he could greet his native \ 

\ country as an independent empire. General ) 

5 Stark was of the middle stature, not formed by J 

J nature to exhibit an erect soldierly mien. His I 

J manners v/ere frank and unassuming, but he j 

j manifested a peculiar sort of eccentricity and i 

S negligence, which precluded all display of i 

J |)ersonal dignity, and seemed to place him \ 

{ among those of ordinary rank in life. His > 

j character, as a private citizen, was unblemished, ;- 

J and he was ever held in respect. For the last < 

^/ few years of his life, he enjoyed a pecuniary \ 

\ bounty from the government. He lived to the \ 



\ \ 



HUGH MERCER, 

Major-General in the American Armt. 



To fight 
In a just cause, and for our country's glory, 
la the best office of the best of men ; 
Ar;d to decline when these motives urge, 
Is infamy beneath a coward's baseness. 

Havard's Regulus. 

In the revolution which released our country 
from the domination of Great Britain, foreign- 
ers as well as native Americans, espoused the 
cause of the colonies. No examples are ne- 
cessary to prove this : — we at once think of 
Steuben, — of Lafayette, — of Kosciusko — of 
the many who left their native land to strike a 
blow for freedom in the Western World. 
Numerous were the Britons, also, who joined 
the standard of patriotism, even though it was 
raised in opposition to the lion of their own 
banner. Instances of two of the most cele- 
brated of these, both for their noble qualities 
and early deaths, — for they occurred during an 
early period of the contest, — we see in James 

Montgomery, and Hugh Mercer. The former 
106 



HUGH MERCER. 107 



we need not further mention in this place,— 
but of the latter we will give a brief sketch. 

Hugh Mercer was born near Aberdeen in 
the north of Scotland, about the year 1723. 
He studied medicine, and as an assistant surgeon 
he was with the army of the Pretender, Charles 
Edward, at the field of Culloden. That battle 
j was fought on the 16th April, 1746, and early 

J in the year 1747, Mercer, fleeing from Scotland 

J in consequence of his participation in the re- 

s bellion, landed at Philadelphia. Thirty years 



afterwards his corpse was interred in that I 

place — and finally, on the 26th November < 

1840, his remains, with all the 'pride, pomp, J 

and circumstance, of glorious war,' were re- < 

moved from their first resting place, and buried '<; 

in the beautiful cemetry of Laurel Hill, near > 

the same city. ^ 

From Philadelphia Mercer proceeded to the < 

frontier of Pennsylvania, and settled near < 

the present village of Mercersburg, Franklin J 

County. Here he remained engaged, it is be- ,^ 

lieved, in farming occupations, until the com- ^ 

mencement of the French and Indian war of \ 

1755. After Braddock's defeat, the whole J 

frontier of this province lay exposed to the ^ 

attacks of the savages. The colonists were ^ 



108 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. \', 

continually harassed by their incursions, and at { 

last the Legislature raised a force of three Ij 

hundred men, and gave the command to Colonel J 

John Armstrong, under whom Mercer was s 

appointed captain. The troops marched, ir j 

1756, from Fort Shirley through a hostile ^ 

country to the Alleghany river, and, unknown <; 

to the enemy, arrived at an Indian town called !> 

Kittaning, within twenty-five miles of Fort ;! 

Du Quesne. At day-break the Americans at- s 

tacked the place, and after a short action < 

carried the town, and completely destroyed it. j 

? In this conflict Mercer was severely wounded J 

\ in the right wrist and during the confusion \ 

which succeeded the taking of the Fort, he ^ 

became separated from the rest of his company, s 

and was obliged to set off alone, for the settle- ;; 

ments. Becoming faint from loss of blood, < 
and hearing the war-whoop of a body of Indians 
who approached, he secreted himself in the 
I hollow trunk of a large tree. The savages 
! came up, and stayed about the place some time, 
s for the purpose of resting themselves, but soon 
\ continued their way. Mercer then pushed on, 
\ and, having reached the waters that emptied 
j into the Potomac, he finally, after wandering 



HUGH MERCER. 109 



J in the woods for some weeks, arrived at Fort ^ 

^ Cumberland. i 

^ In 1758, the provincial forces were reorga- f 

^ nized, and placed in a more effective condition. j 

J Mercer was promoted to the rank of lieutenant- ;> 

'<\ colonel, and accompanied General Forbes in his I 

I; expedition to Fort Du Quesne. He was left s 

5 with two hundred men in charge of the fort, ^ 

;J and maintained it until he was relieved, not- <; 

I withstanding the difficulties which attended it. 1; 

< Washington — with whom Mercer first became > 

I acquainted in this expedition — wrote to Gover- ^ 

i nor Fauquier that the men left in the fort were '< 

\ " in such a miserable condition, having hardly j; 

^ rags to cover their nakedness, and exposed to I; 

j the inclemency of the weather in this inclem- j 

s ent season, that sickness, death and desertion, ^ 

J if they are not speedily supplied, must destroy s 

s them." As soon as he was relieved, Mercer I 

J left the army, and repaired to Fredericksburg, i 

J in Virginia, where he continued to practise his J 

i profession. ? 

;. " The repose which the colonies enjoyed be- j 

i tween the peace of 1763 and the beginning of i 

l the revolution, was short and restless. The J 

J young Nation lay, not in the slumber of ex- J 

^ haustion, but in the fitful sleep which the J 




110 HEROES OF THE REVOLLTION. \ 

consciousness of a great futurity allows. It j 

slept too with arms by its side, and there > 

needed but the trumpet's feeblest note to arouse \ 

it to action. The involuntary concord of the j 

Colonies at the outbreak of the Revolution is ^ 

one of its most singular characteristics. It < 

was a concord that transcended all mere po- -; 

litical relations — it was beyond, and above all !; 

political union. It was the instinctive appre- \ 

ciation of common right, the quick sense of I; 

common injury. There seemed to be but one ;j 

frame, and when the hand of tyranny was ^ 

rudely laid on a single member, the whole I 

system quivered beneath the contact, and braced i 

itself to resistance."* ? 

None of the colonies was more distinguished ^ 

n the contest, for firm resistance to the arbi- ? 

trary measures of the mother country, than I 

were Massachusetts, Pennsylvania and Virginia. ;, 

Hancock and Adams, Morris and Hopkinson, ^ 

Henry and Jefferson, — all were untiring in i 

I their efforts to arouse their countrymen. Nor j 

Ij were these alone : other men, less celebrated J 

J in the annals of our country, perhaps, but yet 

J equally patriotic, aided them. Of these Mer- j 

i cer was one. On the 25th of April 1775, be i 

i * Reed's eulogy on General Mercer. '/ 



.-J 



House yard with their arms and accoutrements," 



HUGH MERCER. Ill j 

wrote to Washington informing him of an j 

s attack upon Williamsburg by some seamen f 

^ irom a British vessel, and of their removal of j 

\ the powder from the magazine, by order of the j 

'<\ Governor. He also said that the volunteer J 

> company of Fredericksburg intended to march < 

< in a few days to Williamsburg to secure the <; 

;! military stores yet remaining there. In June ^ 

\ of the same year Washington was appointed 1; 

.; Commander-in-chief, and on June 5th 1776, \ 

? at the instance of Washington himself, Mercer s 

\ was created Brigadier-General of the American <> 

} troops. < 

I The army was at New York when Mercer ^ 

I joined, and he remained with it constantly. ^ 

J The projected attack on Staten Island was \ 

^ confided to him — he was with the forces at ^ 

1; White Plains — during the retreat through New ^^ 

5 Jersey, — and in short he continued in active J 

'^ service until his death. ^i 

I The Americans had at last retired across the ^ 

J Delaware, but the gloomy appearance of their c^ 

i prospects increased. In Philadelphia " all able ^> 

} bodied men who were not conscientiously J 

\ scrupulous about bearing arms," were ordered ;! 

\ by General Putnam to "appear in the State <; 

\ FT T ' L^^ i1_ • 1 - 1 ^ . . __i_ *1 I. 



112 HEROES OP THE REVOLUTION. f 

^ that they might be sent to reinforce General \ 

I Washington. With the assistance of these \ 

\ militia, it was resolved by the Commander-in- ^ 

i chief, — and the design was warmly seconded > 

^f by Greene, Reed, and Mercer, — ^to attack the 'j 

\ Hessian troops at Trenton. The result of this ^ 

i plan need not be here given; it is too well j 

? known to every reader of American history. ^ 

^ General Washington immediately after the ? 

> action recrossed the Delaware with his prison- ? 

^ ers, and remained in his former position until ? 

s the 29th of December, when he again entered s 

;; New Jersey, and on the 2d of January met the \ 

< main body of the British troops. The approach j 

.; of darkness deferred the action, and during the | 



night a council of the American officers was 



^ held to consider the means of rescuing them- 

5 selves from the difficulties which surrounded 

< them. In this state of affairs Mercer proposed 

< the brilliant plan of ordering up the Phila- 
J delphia militia, and making a night march upon 
^ Princeton and Brunswick. It was agreed to 
^ without dissent and the troops were set in 
s motion. General Mercer commanded the ad- 
s vanced party, and as day broke he observed a 
J large body of British troops marching towards 
j Trenton. He immediately proposed to the 



^ 



HUGH MERCER. 113 > 

Commander-in-chief to throw himself between j 

this corps, and their reserve at Princeton, and j 
thus bring on a general action, — and upon the 

consent of Washington he executed the move- \ 

ment. The Americans were however thrown ; 

into confusion at the death of Colonel Hazlet, s 

and fell back. Mercer's horse was killed, but \ 

notwithstandincr that he was alone, he refused ? 

to surrender and fouo;ht sinorle handed with a s 

British detachment which advanced towards ^ 

him. The combat was too unequal, however, c; 

and he was beaten down by the butts of mus- "^ 

^' kets and mortally wounded by bayonets. After ^■ 

s 



.^ Kets diiu inuriaiiy wounueu oy oayoneis. .f\.ner ;; 

\ the American troops had gained the day he 

> was removed to a neighbouring house, and ^ 

^ there expired, January 12th, 1777. ^ 

^ "On the 14th of January the remains of ^ 

i Mercer were brought to Philadelphia, and on the ^' 

,] next day but one were interred in the grave \> 

\ from which they were removed to Laurel Hill 

! November 26th 1840. 

s "There are aged men yet amongst us — so 

J aged that before the brief remnant of this year 

<; expires the generation may cease to live — who 

? rem.ember the solemnity of that funeral. It 

j was the Nation mourning for her first child. 
It was a people in sad amazement that a 



< 114 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. i 

I ) 

\ gallant citizen had indeed died for them. \ 

\ And when the ancient inhabitants of this city \ 

\ thus gathered in throngs to bear the soldier's ^ 

;! mangled corpse to its place of rest, it was com- \ 

\ mitted to the ground with the sacred service j 

\ which bade them look to the promised day { 

\ when " the earth and the sea shall give up their ) 

\ dead." The grave thus solemnly closed { 

^ has been unsealed — affectionately, reverently, \ 

\ piously. — But yet upon the solemnities of this \ 

\ day, the reproach of a vain and profane pageant j 

^ may fasten, if the mouldering remains of the ^ 

jj dead can be placed in the midst of the living < 

^ without stirring every heart to its very centre."* \ 

1; * Reed's eulogy. Delivered at Philadelphia November s 

\ 26th, 1840, when the remains of Mercer were disinterred < 

K and again buried at Laurel HilL ) 

\ . \ 



ETHAN ALLEN, 

ftllGADIER-GENERAL IN THE AMERICAN ARMY. 

General Allen was born in Salisbury, Con- 
necticut, from whence, while he was yet 
young, his parents emigrated to Vermont. By 
this circumstance he was deprived of the ad- 
vantages of an early education. But, although 
he never felt its genial influence, nature had 
endowed him with strong powers of mind ; and 
when called to take the field, he showed him- 
self an able leader, and an intrepid soldier. 

At the commencement of the disturbances in 
Vermont, about the year 1770, he took a most 
active part in favour of the Green Mountain 
Boys, as the first settlers were then called, in 
opposition to the government of New York. 
Bold, enterprising, and ambitious, he undertook 
to direct the proceedings of the inhabitants, and 
wrote several pamphlets to display the supposed 
injustice and oppressive designs of the New 
York proceedings. The uncultivated rough- 
ness of his own temper and manners seems to 
have assisted him in giving a just description of 
the views and proceedings of speculating land- 
8 115 



116 HEROES OF THE KEVOLUTION. j 

jobbers. His writings produced effects so he stile ? 

to the views of the state of New York, that an J 

j act of outlawry was passed against him, and five \ 

j hundred guineas were offered for his apprehen- J 

1 sion. But his party was too numerous and < 

i faithful to permit him to be disturbed by any i 

\ apprehensions for his safety. In all the ^ 

i struggles of the day he was successful, and \ 

< proved a valuable friend to those whose cause } 

\ he had espoused. i 

? The news of the battle of Lexington deter- s 

\ mined Allen to engage on the side of his country, > 

$ and inspired him with the desire of demonstra- ^ 

;; ting his attachment to liberty by some bold ;; 

) exploit. While in this state of mind, a plan 5 

j for taking Ticonderoga and Crown-Point by < 

\ surprise, which was formed by several gentle- \ 



\ men in Connecticut, was communicated to ^ 

! him, and he readily engaged in the project. ^ 



Receiving directions from the General Assembly J- 

\ of Connecticut, to raise the Green Mountain \ 

\ Boys and conduct the enterprise, he collected \ 

\ two hundred and thirty of the hardy settlers, ^\ 

) and proceeded to Castleton. Here he was \ 

\ unexpectedly joined by Col. Arnold, wlio had \ 

been commissioned by the Massachusetts com- ^ 

nciittee to raise four hundred men, and effect \ 



( ETHAN ALLEN. 117 j 

;! the same object which was now about to be \ 

! accomplished. They reached the lake opposite j 

J Ticonderoga on the evening of the 9th of \ 

\ May, 1775. With the utmost difficulty boats j 

\ were procured, and eighty-three men were J 

^ landed near the garrison. Arnold now wished ^ 

J to assume the command, to lead on the men, I 

^ and swore that he would go in himself the first. \ 

;i Allen swore that he should not. The dispute ^ 

< beginning to run high, some of the gentlemen ^ i 

«; present interposed, and it was agreed that both [• 

<; should go in together, Allen on the right hand, > 

\ and Arnold on the left. The following is ^ 

> Allen's own account of the affair : — j 
I " The first systematical and bloody attempt < 
s at Lexington, to enslave America, thoroughly ^ 
I electrified my mind, and fully determined me '^ 
f to take a part with my country. And while I } 
\ was wishing for an opportunity to signalize j 

> myself in its behalf, directions were privately j 
\ sent to me from the then colony, now state of < 
\ Connecticut, to raise the Green Mountain Boys, \ 
j and, if possible, with them to surprise and take .f 
I the fortress of Ticonderoga. This enterprise 1 s 
J cheerfully undertook : and after fint guarding J 
j all the several passes that led thither, to cut off < 
] all intelligence between the garrison and the ^ 






118 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

country, made a forced march from Bennington, 



? and arrived at the lake opposite Ticonderoga on J 

i the evening of the 9th day of May, 1775, with I 

;; two hundred and thirty valiant Green-mountain s 

i Boys J and it was with the utmost difficulty \ 

<! that I procured boats to cross the lake. ;! 

\ However, I landed eighty-three men near the \ 

\ garrison, and sent the boats back for the rear- ^ 

> guard, commanded by Col. Seth Warner ; but ? 

s the day began to dawn, and I found myself s 

s necessitated to attack the fort before the rear J 

5 could cross the lake ; and as it was viewed < 

i hazardous, I harangued the officers and soldiers < 

\ in the manner following : — ' Friends and ^ 

J fellow-soldiers, you have, for a number of ^ 

s years past, been a scourge and terror to ^ 

\ arbitrary powers. Your valour has been famed J 

I abroad, and acknowledged, as appears by the j 

J advice and orders to me from the General ^ 

J Assembly of Connecticut, to surprise and take i 

\ the garrison now before us. I now propose to ? 

5 advance before you, and in person conduct you j 

\ through the wicket-gate ; for we must this I 

< morning either quit our pretensions to valour, j 

i or possess ourselves of this fortress in a few ^ 

\ minutes; and inasmuch as it is a desperate ^ 

i attempt, which none but the bravest of men J 



ETHAN ALLEN. 113 



my sword, but in an instant I altered the design 
and fury of the blow to a slight cut on the side 
of the head ; upon which he dropped his gun 






;J dare undertake, I do not urge it on any contrary I 

J to his will. You that will undertake volunta j 

s riiy, poise your firelock.' < 

J " The men being at this time drawn up in j 

J three racks, each poised his firelock. I ordered ^ 

^ them to face to the rio-ht, and at the head of 

^ the centre file, marched them immediately to 

^ the wicket-gate aforesaid, where I found a sentry 

\ posted, who instantly snapped his fusee at me. J 

\ I ran immediately towards him, and ho \ 

\ retreated through the covered way into tho Ij 

J parade within the garrison, gave a halloo, an'3 J 

J ran under a bomb-proof. My party, wh j 

i followed me into the fort, I formed on th. . ;, 

;. parade in such a manner as to face the barracks, j 

^ which faced each other. The garrison bein j 

S asleep, except the sentries, we gave three J 

} huzzas, which greatly surprised them. One ^ 

J of the sentries made a pass at one of my officers 

} with a charged bayonet, and slightly wounded 



i him. My first thought was to kill him with '', 

i 



^ and asked quarters, which I readily granted ^ 



\ him ; and demanded the place were the com- ^ 

manding officer kept. He showed me a pair of \ 



r 



*20 HEPwOES OF THE REVOLUTION. j 

stairs in the front of the garrison, which !j 



\ led up to a second story in said barracks, to \ 

f which I immediately repaired, and ordered \ 

^ the commander, Captain Delaplace, to come I 

5 forth instantly, or I would sacrifice the whole ;! 

< garrison ; at which time the captain came c, 

j immediately to the door with his breeches in i 

? his hand, when I ordered him to deliver to me <; 

i the fort instantly; he asked me by what ^ 

i authority I demanded it. I answered him, * In '^ 

s' the name of the great Jehovah, and tl J; 

;; Continental Congress.' The authority of < 

( Congress being very little known at that time, / 

I he began to speak again ; but I interrupted him, \ 

\ and with my drawn sword near his head, again ] 

^ demanded an immediate surrender of the j 

garrison; with which he then complied, and 
ordered his men to be forthwith paraded 
without arms, as he had given up the garrison. j 

In the meantime, some of my officers had given ; 

orders, and in consequence thereof, sundry of j 

the barrack doors were beat down, and about 
one third of the garrison imprisoned, which j 

consisted of said commander, a Lieutenant 
Feltham, a conductor of artillery, a gunner, j 

two sergeants, and forty-four rank and file, j 

about one hundred pieces of cannon, one \ 



ETHAN ALLEN. 121 i 

thirteen inch mortar, and a number of swivels. \ 

) This surprise was carried into execution m the | 

} gray of the morning of the 10th of May, 1775. | 

J The sun seemed to rise that morning with a | 

j superior lustre , and Ticonderoga and its de- j 

j pendencies smiled on its conquerors, who tossed ^ 

about the flowing bowl, and wished success to ^ 

J Congress, and the liberty and freedom of \ 

\ America. Happy it was for me, at that time, e 

I that the future pages of the book of fate, which \ 

I afterwards unfolded a miserable scene of two S 

< years and eight months' imprisonment, were hid J 
s from my view." j 
^ This brilliant exploit secured to Allen a high S 
'< reputation for intrepid valour throughout the i 
\ country. In the fall of 1775, he was sent ^ 
'j twice into Canada to observe the dispositions j; 

of the people, and attach them, if possible, to ^ 

the American cause. During one of these ^ 

excursions, he made a rash and romantic j 

attempt upon Montreal. He had been sent by \ 

General Montgomery, with a guard of eighty j 
men, on a tour into the villages in the neigh- 
bourhood. On his return he was met by a 
Major Brown, who had been on the same 
business. It was agreed between them to maka 

< a descent upon the island of Montreal Allen J 

\ \ 



122 HErwOES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

was to cross the river, and land with his party >. 

a little north of the city ; while Brown was to J 

pass over a little to the south, with near two > 

hundred men. Allen crossed the river in the \ 

night, as had been proposed; but, by some s 

means. Brown and his party failed. Instead J 
of returning, Allen, with great rashness, con- 
cluded to maintain his ground. General 



Carlton soon received intelli2;ence of Allen's > 

situation and the smallness of his numbers, and ^ 

marched out against him with about forty ^ 

regulars, and a considerable number of English, J 

Canadians, and Indians, amounting, in the s 

whole, to some hundreds. Allen attempted to J 

defend himself, but it was to no purpose ^ 

Being deserted by several of his men, and ^ 

< having fifteen killed, he, with thirty-eight of J 

? his men, were taken prisoners. ^ 

> He was now kept for some time in irons, \ 

and was treated with the most rigorous and \ 

unsparing cruelty. From his narrative, it J 

appears that the irons placed on him were \ 

uncommonly heavy, and so fastened, that he > 

could not lie down otherwise than on his back. > 

A chest was his seat by day and his bed by ] 

night. Soon after his capture, still loaded with J 

irons, he was sent to England, being assured J 



ETHAN ALLEN. 123 

that the halter would be the reward of his 
rebellion when he arrived there. Finding that 
threats and menaces had no effect upon him, 
high command and a large tract of the con- 
quered country, were afterward offered him, 



^ on condition that he would join the British 



To the last he replied, " that he viewed their 

offer of conquered United States land to be 

5 similar to that which the devil offered to Jesus ^ 

> Christ : to give him all the kingdoms of the \ 

> world, if he would fall down and worship him, > 
;> when, at the same time, the poor devil had not ^ 
'^ one foot of land upon earth." i 
J After his arrival, about the middle of '^ 
s December, he was lodged, for a short time, in ^ 
J Pendennis Castle, near Falmouth. On the 8th <, 
i; of January, 1776, he was put on board a frigate, \ 
j and by a circuitous route again carried to ^ 
J Halifax. Here he remained closely confined J 
5 in the jail from June to October, when he was I 
J removed to New- York. During the passage to S 
i this place, Captain Burke, a daring prisoner, j 
j proposed to kill the British captain, and seize | 
^ the frigate ; but Allen refused to engage in the ? 

plot, and was probably the means of saving > 

the life of Captain Smith, who had treated him ' 

with kindness. He was kept at New- York j 



J 



124 HEROES OF THE PwEVOLUTION. 

about a year and a half, sometimes imprisoned, 
\ and sometimes permitted to be on parole. 

\ While here, he had an opportunity to observe 

I the inhuman manner in which the American 

^ prisoners were treated. In one of the churchea 

;; in which they were crowded, he saw seven 



lying dead at one time, and others biting 
pieces of chips from hunger. He calculated, s 

that of the prisoners taken on Long-Island and s 

at Fort- Washington, near two thousand perished s 

by hunger and cold, or in consequence of j 

diseases occasioned by the impurity of their \ 

prisons. ^ 

Colonel Allen was exchanged for a Colonel s 

Campbell, May 6th, 1778, and after having <; 

repaired to head quarters, and offered his e 

services to General Washington, in case hia ^ 

health should be restored, he returned to Ver- > 

mont. His arrival on the evening of the last > 

day of May gave his friends great joy, and it 
was announced by the discharge of cannon. 
As an expression of confidence in his patriotism 
and military talents, he was very soon ap- 
pointed to the command of the state militia. 
His intrepidity, however, was never again 
brought to the test, though his patriotism was 
tried by an unsuccessful attempt of the British 



ETHAN ALLEN. 125 i 

to bribe him to attempt a union of Termont J 

with Canada. He died suddenly on his estate, \ 

February 13th, 1789. \ 

General Allen was brave, humane, and gen- j 

erous ; yet his conduct does not seem to have j 

been much influenced by considerations res- J 

pecting that holy and merciful Being, whose ] 

character and whose commands are disclosed s 

to us in the Scriptures. His notions with re- \ 

gard to religion were loose and absurd. He <, 

believed with Pythagoras, the heathen phil- J 

\ osopher, that man, after death, would trans- \ 

;> migrate into beasts, birds, fishes, reptiles, &c. ^ 

'') and often informed his friends that he himself ^ 

< expected to live again in the form of a large j 

$ white horse. \ 

i ■ I 



JOHN CADWALADER, 

Brigadier-General in the American Army. 

This zealous and inflexible friend of America 
«vas born in Philadelphia, 174-2. He was 
distinguished for his intrepidity as a soldier, 
in upholding the cause of freedom during the 
most discouraging periods of danger and mis- 
fortune that America ever beheld. 



126 



At the dawn of the revolution, he com- \ 



manded a corps of volunteers, designated as \ 

" The silk stocking company ^''^ of which nearly 
all the members were appointed to commissions 
in the line of the army. He afterwards was 
appointed colonel of one of the city battalions, 
and being thence promoted to the rank of J 

brigadier-general, was intrusted with the com- > 

mand of the Pennsylvania troops, in the I 

important operations of the winter campaign \ 

of 1776 and 1777. He acted with this com- 
mand, as a volunteer, in the actions of Prince- \ 
ton, Brandywine, Germantown, and Monmouth, j 
and on other occasions, and received the thanks ^ 
of General Washington, whose confidence and J 
regard he uniformly enjoyed. 



.-^--v-^.-^^--J--■ 



-J 



JOHN CADWALADER. 127 

The merits and services of General Cadwal- 
ader, induced Congress, early in 1778, to 
compliment him, by a unanimous vote, with 
the appointment of general of cavalry ; which 
appointment he declined, under an impression 
that he could be more useful to his country in 



< trie SDliere m which he had been actmo-. <! 



the sphere in which he had been acting 



> TT ,11, ,, ,, \ I , > 



honour may be satisfied without the smallest 



< He was strongly and ardently attached to 
\ General Washington, and his celebrated duel > 
;• with General Conway arose from his spirited ;J 
^ opposition to the intrigues of that officer to ;J 
;. undermine the standing of the commander-in- \ 

< chief. The following anecdote of the ren- < 
\ counter is related in the "Anecdotes of the \ 
> Revolutionary War." jJ 
\ " The particulars of this duel, originating in l* 
\ the honourable feelings of General Cadwalader, > 
J 'ndignant at the attempt of his adi^ersary to J 

l ininrp fhp rPT-«n+ntJr>n nf flip mmmnnrlpr-in- . 



injure the reputation of the commander-in- \ 

\ chief, by representing him as unqualified for e 

? the exa^lted station which he held, appears I 

j worthy of record. Nor ought the coolness \ 

j observed on the occasion by the parties to be ) 

j forgotten, as it evinces very strongly, that j 

j though imperious circumstances may compel J 

^ men of nice feeling to meet, the dictates of I- 



r ! 

5 128 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. ; 

? deviation from the most rigid rules of politeness. J 

S When arrived at the appointed rendezvous, ;, 

5 General Cadwalader, accompanied by General ^ 

I Dickenson, of Pennsylvania, General Conway s' 

\ by Colonel Morgan, of Princeton, it was agreed > 

upon by the seconds, that on the word being ^ 

given, the principals might fire in their own ^ 

time, and at discretion, either by an oiF-hand \ 

shot, or by taking a deliberate aim. The i 

parties having declared themselves ready, the \ 

word was given to proceed. General Conway 5 

immediately raised his pistol, and fired with < 

great composure, but without effect. General < 

Cadwalader was about to do so, when a sudden I 
gust of wind occurring, he kept his pistol down 
and remained tranquil. ' Why do you not fire, 
General Cadwalader.?' exclaimed Conway. 
^Because,' replied General Cadwalader, *we 
came not here to trifle. Let the gale pass and 
I shall act my part.' ' You shall have a fair 
chance of performing it well,' rejoined Con- 
^ way, and immediately presented a full front. 

I General Cadwalader fired, and his ball entering | 

>, the mouth of his antagonist, he fell directly j 

J forward on his face. Colonel Morgan running j 

^ to his assistance, found the blood spouting from ;! 

> behind his neck, and lifting up the club of his | 



JOHN CADWALADER. 129 j 

hair^ saw the ball drop from it. It had passed ] 

through his head, greatly to the derangement j 

of his tongue and teeth, but did not inflict a i 

mortal wound. As soon as the blood was 5 

sufficiently washed away to allow him to speak, \ 

General Conway, turning to his opponent, said, 1; 

good humouredly, * You fire, general, with much ;>' 

\ deliberation, and certainly with a great deal of < 

I effect.' The parties then parted, free from all k 

^ resentment." ^ 

> This patriotic and exemplary man died Feb- ^ 
;> ruary 10th, 1786. In his private life he J 
^ exemplified all the virtues that ennoble the j 
s character of man. His conduct was not J 
;; marked with the least degree of malevolence j 
i or party spirit. Those who honestly differed j 
^ from him in opinion, he always treated with ? 
'/ singular tenderness. In sociability and cheer- ^ 
s fulness of temper, honesty and goodness of 5 
\ heart, independence of spirit, and warmth of j 
i friendship, he had no superior. Never did any < 
\ man die more lamented by his friends and j 

> neighbours; to his family and relations his J 
death was a stroke still more severe. 



THOMAS CONWAY, 

Major-General in the American Army. 

" This gentleman was born in Ireland, and ^ 

went with his parents to France at the age of s 

six years, and was, from his youth, educated to j 

5 the profession of arms. He had obtained con- ^ 

i, siderable reputation as a military officer, and !; 

'\ as a man of sound understanding and judgment. J 

^ He arrived from France with ample recom- ^ 

ij mendations, and Congress appointed him a s 

I brigadier-general in May, 1777. He soon be- I 

^ came conspicuously inimical to General Wash- ^ 

^ Ington, and sought occasions to traduce his \ 

\ character. In this he found support from a J 

^ faction in Congress, who were desirous that ^ 

^ tke commander-in-chief should be superseded. ^ 

\ The Congress not long after elected General ^ 

j; Conway to the office of inspector-general to i 

j ' our army, with the rank of Major-general, ^ 

J though he had insulted the commander-in-chief, \ 

S and justified himself in doing so. This gave \ 

\ umbrage to the brigadiers over whom he was J 

promoted, and they remonstrated to Congress j 

against the proceeding, as implicating theu* < 

] 30 < 



THOMAS CONWAY. 131 



Honour and character. Conway, now smarting \ 

under the imputation of having instigated a \ 

hostile faction against the iUustrious Washing- \ 

ton, and being extremely unpopular among the j 

offir.ers in general, and finding his situation did j 
not accord with his feelings and views, resigned 

his commission, without having commenced ■; 

the duties of inspector. He was believed to ( 
be an unprincipled intriguer, and after his 
resignation, his calumny and detraction of the 
commander-in-chief, and the army generally, 
were exercised with unrestrained virulence and 
outraore. 

No man was more zealously engaged in the s 

scheme of elevating General Gates to the station I 

of commander-in-chief. His vile insinuations (• 

and direct assertions in the public newspapers, > 

and in private conversations, relative to the \ 

incapacity of Washington to conduct the op- \ 

erations of the army, received countenance J 

from several members of Congress, who were ^ 

induced to declare their want of confidence in \ 

him, and the affair assumed an aspect threat- r^ 

ening the most disastrous consequences. !! 

Conway maintained a correspondence with ;, 

General Gates on the subject, and in one of ^ 

his letters he thus expresses himself: " Heaven \ 



> 132 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



has been determined to save your country, or 
a weak general and bad counsellors would have 
ruined it." He was himself at that time one of 
the counsellors against whom he so basely in- 
veighs. Envy and malice ever are attendant 
on exalted genius and merit. But the delusion 
was of short continuance ; the name of Wash- 
ington proved unassailable, and the base in- 
trigue of Conway recoiled with bitterness on 
his own head. 

General Cadwalader, of Pennsylvania, in- 
dignant at the attempt to vilify the character 
of Washington, resolved to avenge himself on 
the aggressor in personal combat. The par- 
ticulars of this meeting are given in the biogra- 
phy of General Cadwalader. General Conway, 
conceiving his wound to be mortal, and be- 
lieving death to be near, acted honourably in 
addressing to General Washington, whom he 
had perfidiously slandered, the following letter 
of apology : 

" Philadelphia, Feb, 23, 1778. 

ci sir^ — I find myself just able to hold my 
pen during a few minutes, and take this op- 
portunity of expressing my sincere grief for 
having done, written, or said any thing dis- 
agreeable to your excellency. My career wil] 



THOMAS CONWAY. 133 > 

soon be over, therefore, justice and truth I 

prompt me to declare my last sentiments. ;! 

You are, in my eyes, the great and good man. j 

May you long enjoy the love, esteem, and j 

veneration of these states, vv^hose liberties you j 

have asserted by your virtues. <> 

I am, with the greatest respect, \ 

Your Excellency's J 

Most obedient and humble servant, < 

THS. CONWAY. \ 



WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE, 

ColoneI-Cor*nandant of the State Cavalry of North-Carolina. 




1 



! I 



i Colonel Davie was born in the village of i 

I Egremont, in England, on the 20th of June, . I 

^ 1759. His father, visiting South Carolina soon j 

^ after the peace of 1763, brought with him this j 

J son; and returning to England, confided him > 

^ to the Rev. William Richardson, his maternal \ 

> uncle : who becoming much attached to his I 

i nephew, not only took charge of his education, ;! 

s but adopted him as his son and heir. At the s 

•^ proper age, William was sent to an academy J 

j' in North Carolina; from whence he was, ? 

\ after a few years, removed to the college of 1; 

? Nassau-Hall, in Princeton, New Jersey, then ;.' 

\ becoming the resort of most of the southern s 

S youth, under the auspices of the learned and '< 

I respectable Dr. Witherspoon. Here he J 

J finished his education, graduating in the ^ 

I autumn of 1776, a year memorable in our \ 

S military as well as civil annals. ^ 

\ Returning home, young Davie found himself \ 

shut out for a time from the army, as the J 

commissions for the troops just levied had been ^ 



WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. 135 

issued. He went to Salisbury, where he com- 
menced the study of law. The war con- 
tinuing, contrary to the expectations which 
generally prevailed when it began, Davie could 
no longer resist the wish to plant himself 
among the defenders of his country. Inducing 
a worthy and popular friend, rather too old 
for military service, to raise a troop of dra- 
goons, as the readiest mode of accomplishing 
his object, Davie obtained a lieutenancy in 
this troop. Without delay the captain joined 
the southern army, and soon afterward return- 
ed home on a furlough. The command of 
the troop devolving on Lieutenant Davie, it 
was, at his request, annexed to the legion of 
Count Pulaski, where Captain Davie continued, 
until promoted by Major-General Lincoln to 
the station of brigade-major of cavalry. In 
this office Davie served until the affair at Stono, 
devoting his leisure to the acquirement of 
professional knowledge, and rising fast in the 
esteem of the general and army. When 
Lincoln attempted to dislodge Lieutenant- 
Colonel Maitland from his entrencl.ied camp on 
the Stono, Davie received a severe wound, and 
was removed from camp to the hospital i« 



^ — 



l36 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



<> Charleston, where he was confined five J 

^ months. < 

^ Soon after his recovery, he was empowered < 

J by the government of North Carolina to raise i 

s a small legionary corps, consisting of one troop \ 

> of dragoons and two companies of mounted j 

> infantry ; at the head of which he was placed ^ 
j with the rank of major. \ 
J Quickly succeeding in completing his corps, ^ 
j in whose equipment he expended the last \ 
s remaining shilling of an estate bequeathed to ij 
J him by his uncle, he took the field, and was I 
J sedulously engaged in protecting the country < 
\ between Charlotte and Camden from the s 
! enemy's predatory excursions. On the fatal j 
\ 19th of August, he was hastening with his J 
J corps to join the army, when he met our dis- > 
\ persed and flying troops. He nevertheless ^ 
j continued to advance toward the conqueror; ^ 

> and by his prudence, zeal, and vigilance, saved ^ 
^ a few of our wagons, and many of our strag- \ 
J glers. Acquainted with the movement of i 
J Sum.pter, and justly apprehending that he i 
^ would be destroyed unless speedily advised of > 



\ the defeat of Gates, he despatched imme- ^ 

\ diately a courier to that officer, communicating J 

^ what had happened, performing, in the midst I 



'} WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. 137 f 

s ,; 

s of distk'ess and confusion, the part of an ex- J 

s perienced captain. 

f^ So much was his conduct respected by the \ 

\ government of North Carolina, that he was in } 

\ the course of September promoted to the rank j 

j of colonel commandant of the cavalry of the j 

) state. j 

\ At the two gloomiest epochs of the southern \ 

\ war, soon after the fall of Charleston and the \ 

overthrow of Gates, it was the good fortune { 



^- of Colonel Davie to be the first to shed a gleam s 



through the surrounding darkness, and give 
hope to the country by the brilliancy of his 
exploits. In one instance, without loss or in- 
jury on his part, he entirety destroyed an 



j! escort of provisions, taking forty prisoners, \ 

I with their horses and arms. In the other, ;> 



< under the immediate eye of a large British [ 

\ force, which was actually beating to arms to ;, 

1; attack him, he routed a party stronger than his J 

\ own, killing and wounding sixty of the enemy, j 

\ and carrying off with him ninety-six horses ) 

) and one hundred and twenty stand of arms. j 

\ When Lord Cornwallis entered Charlotte, a \ 

> small village in North Carolina, Colonel Davie, \ 

\ at the head of his detachment, threw himself ^ 

!> in his front, determined to give him a specimen \ 

1 \ 



138 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. j 

of the firmness and gallantry with which the J 

inhabitants of the place were prepared to dis- ^ 
pute with his lordship their native soil. 

Colonel Tarlton's legion formed the British ) 

van, led by Major Hanger, the commander < 

himself being confined by sickness. When j 

that celebrated corps had advanced near to the .; 

centre of the village, where the Americans ,; 

were posted, Davie poured into it so destruc- ^ 

tive a fire, that it immediately wheeled and j 

retired in disorder. Being rallied on the J 

commons, and again led on to the charge, it <) 

received on the same spot another 'fire with <; 

similar efiect. \ 

Lord Cornwallis witnessing the confusion o 

) thus produced among his choicest troops, rode i> 

j up in person, and in a tone of dissatisfaction ;> 

? upbraided the legion with unsoldierly conduct, < 

j reminding it of its former exploits and reputa- '> 

,s Pressed on his flanks by the British infantry, ^ 

\ Colonel Davie had now fallen back to a new \ 

< and well selected position. To dislodge him ^ 

J; from this, the legion cavalry advanced on him ''j 

\ a third time, in rapid charge, in full view < 

of their commander-in-chief, but in vain. s 

Another fire from the American marksmen i 



f 



WILLIAM RICHAPwDSON DAVIE. 139 



billed several of their officers, wounded Major > 

Hanger, and repulsed them again with increased j 

confusion. i 

The main body of the British being now j 

within musket shot, the American leader s 

abandoned the contest. > 

It was by strokes like these that he seriously 1; 

> crippled and intimidated his enemy, acquired > 

5 an elevated standing in the estimation of his J 

^. friends, and served very essentially the interest < 

J of freedom. > 

\ In this station he was found by General \ 

\ Greene, on assuming the command of the j 

\ southern army ; whose attention had been oc- '<; 

< cupied from his entrance into North Carolina, \ 

} in remedying the disorder in the quarter-master \ 

\ and commissary departments. To the first, J 

! Carrington had been called; and Davie was { 

\ now induced to take upon himself the last, \ 

\ much as he preferred the station he then '^ 

\ possessed. At the head of this department, ^ 

I Colonel Davie remained throughout the trying I^ 

I campaign which followed, contributing greatly \ 

\ by his talents, his zeal, his local knowledge, \ 

\ and his influence, to the maintenance of the ) 

i difficult and successful operations which fol- j 

\ lowed. While before Ninety-Six, Greene, ^ 



~^./---vj^-\^\.-v.- 



1 



i 140 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

I foreseeino; the difficulties ag-ain to be encoun- ^, 

J tered in consequence of the accession of force s 



to the enemy by the arrival of three regimenta i 

< • from Ireland, determined to send a confidential \ 

^ officer to the legislature of North Carolina, ^ 

I then in session, to represent to them his relative ;; 

] condition, and to urge their adoption of effectual < 

J measures without delay, for the collection of ^ 

5 magazines of provisions and the reinforcement ;; 

I of the army. Colonel Davie was selected by 

J, Greene for this important mission, and immedi- 

i ately repaired to the seat of government, where 

!> he ably and faithfully exerted himself to give 

ij effect to the views of his general. ^ 

^ The effect of the capture of Cornwallis as- \ 

J suring the quick return of peace, Colonel { 

\ Davie returned home, and resumed the profes- ^ 

J sion with the practice of the law in the town i 

J of Halifax, on the Roanoke. j 

^ He was afterward governor of North Care- J 

s lina, and one of our ambassadors to France at ] 

•l a very portentous conjuncture. i 

\ The war in the south was ennobled by great j 

j and signal instances of individual and partizan j 

\ valour and enterprise. Scarcely do the most I 

J high drawn heroes of fiction surpass, in their ;! 

darings and extraordinary achievements, many j 



WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE, l^l 

f'f the real ones of Pickens, Marion, Sumpter, 
and Davie, who figured in the southern states 
during the conflict of the revolution. 

Colonel Davie, although younger by several 
vears, possessed talents of a higher order, and 
was much more accomplished in education and 
manners, than either of his three competitors 
for fame. For the comeliness of his person, 
his martial air, his excellence in horsemanship 
and his consummate powers of field eloquence, 
he had scarcely an equal in the armies of his 
country. But his chief excellence lay in the 
magnanimity and generosity of his soul, his 



f B8 



\ daring courage, his vigilance and address, and '^ 

J* his unrelaxing activity and endurance of toil. ^ 

;! If he was less frequei.tly engaged in actual ^ 

s combat than either of his three compeers, it i 

J was not because he was inferior to either s 

\ of them in enterprise or love of battle. His \ 

) district being more interior, was, at first, less ;; 

\ frequently invaded by British detachments. J 



j When, however, Lord Cornwallis ultimately > 

\ advanced into that quarter, his scouts and J 

-; foraging parties found in Colonel Davie and ,s 

his brave associates, as formidable an enemy ) 

they had ever encountered. ^ 



L. 






CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN, 

<J BaiQADIER-GENERAL AND LlEUTENANT-GOVERNOR OF SOOTH 

(J Carolina. 

\ This venerable patriot of the revolution wag 

? * born in Charleston, about the year 1724. He 

J was sent to England by his father, while a 

I youth, where he was educated. At the age 

j of sixteen he returned to Carolina, and finished 

< his education in the counting-house of Mr. 

.• Lawrence, of Philadelphia. 

\ General Gadsden had naturally a strong love '< 

\ for independence. He was born a republican. ^ 

J Under a well ordered government he was a < 

J good subject, but could not brook the encroach- j; 

^ ments of any man, or body of men, to entrench ^' 

i on his rights ^ 



"As early as 1766," says Judge Johnson, 
" there was at least one man in South Carolina 
who foresaw and foretold the views of the 
British government, and explicitly urged his 
adherents to the resolution to resist even to 
death. General Gadsden, it is well known, 
always favoured the most decisive and energetic 
measures. He thought it folly to temporize, 
U2 ' 



CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 



143 



and insisted that cordial reconciliation, on 
honourable terms, was impossible. When 
the news of the repeal of the stamp-act arrived, 
and the whole community was in ecstacy at 
the event, he, on the contrary, received it with 
indignation, and privately convening a party 
of his friends, he harangued them at con- 
siderable length on the folly of relaxing their 
opposition and vigilance, or indulging the 
fallacious hope that Great-Britain would re- 
linquish her designs or pretensions. He drew 
their attention to the preamble of the act, and 
forcibly pressed upon them the absurdity of 
rejoicing at an act that still asserted and main- 
tained the absolute dominion over them. And 
then reviewing all the chances of succeeding 
in a struggle to break the fetters, when again 
imposed upon them, he pressed them to prepare 
their minds for the event. The address was 
received with silent but profound devotion ; 
and with linked hands, the whole party pledged 
themselves to resist ; a pledge that was faith- 
fully redeemed when the hour of trial arrived." 
" In June, 1775, when the Provincial 
Congress determined to raise troops, Gadsden, 
though absent on public duty at Philadelphia, 
was, without his consent or knowledge, elected 



44 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



colonel of the first regiment. For personal \ 

courage he was inferior to no man. In know- ;; 

ledge of the military art, he had several ^ 
equals, and some superiors ; but from the great ^ J 

] confidence reposed in his patriotism, and the 'J 

s popularity of his name, he was put at the head s 

s of the new military establishment. He left J 

^ Congress, and repaired to the camp in Carolina, ^ 

<; declaring that 'wherever his country placed \ 

\ him, whether in the civil or military depart- s 

J' ment ; and if in the latter, whether as corporal ^ 

> or colonel, he would cheerfully serve to the j 

;! utmost of his ability.' " \ 

< In the next year he was promoted by Con- ] 

\ gress to the rank of brigadier-general. He i 

<; commanded at Fort-Johnson, when the fort j 

\ 3n Sullivan's Island was attacked ; and he was \ 

'> prepared to receive the enemy in their progress \ 

\ o Charleston. The repulse of the British pre- ) 

\ vented his coming into action. Their retreat j 

j elieved South Carolina from the pressure of \ 

^ wdiT for two years. In this period, Gadsden ] 

\ resigned his military command, but continued !; 

S o serve in the assembly and the privy council, J 

s ind was very active in preparing for and J 

\ ndeavouring to repel the successive invasions \ 

A the state by the British in 1779 and 1780 \ 

\ 



CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 14i5 

He was the friend of every vigorous measure^ 
J and always ready to undertake the most 

I laborious duties, and to put himself in the front 

I of danger. 

( When Charleston surrendered by capitula- 

tion, he was lieutenant-governor, and paroled 
as such, and honourably kept his engagement. 
For the three months which followed, he was 
undisturbed; but on the defeat of Gates, in 
August, 1780, the British resolved that he and 
\ several others, who discovered no disposition 

> to return to the condition of British subjects, 
',j should be sent out of the country. He was 

> accordingly taken in his own house by a file 

> of soldiers, and put on board a vessel in the 
j harbour. He knew not why he was taken up, 
\ nor what was intended to be done with him, 
«; but supposed it was introductory to a trial 
<!, for treason or rebellion, as the British gave 

•. 
s 

:> 

;> He was soon joined by twenty-eight com- ^ 



out that the country was completely con- 
quered. 



patriots, wtw were also take^i up on the same 



He drew from his pocket half a dollar, and 
turning to his associates with a cheerful coun- 
tenance, assured them that was all the money 



s 
\ day. S 



U 



14i6 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. " \ 

; he had at his command. The conquerors sent <; 

I him and his companions to St. Augustine, then | 

I a British garrison. ^ 

5 % On their landing, limits of some extent were j 

I ofTered to them, on condition of their renewmg ;, 

> the parole they had given in Charleston, " to <; 

? do nothing injurious to the British interest." ) 

S When this was tendered to General Gadsden, { 

^ he replied, " That he had already given one, { 

\ and honourably observed it ; that, in violation j 

^ of his rights as a prisoner under a capitulation, ^ 

^ he had been sent from Charleston, and that, J 

J therefore, he saw no use in giving a second 

^ parole." The commanding officer replied, 

\ "He would enter into no arguments, but 

y demanded an explicit answer whether he 

j would or would not renew his parole." Gene- 

I; ral Gadsden answered with that high-minded 

J republican spirit which misfortunes could not 

! keep down, " I will not. In God I put my 

J trust, and fear no consequences." " Think 

better of it, sir," said the officer ; " a second 
refusal will fix your destiny ; a dungeon will 
be your future habitation." "Prepare it 
then," said the inflexible pat^riot, " I will give 
no parole, so help me God.^^ He was instantly 
hurried off to the castle, and there confined for 



CHRISTOrHER GADSDEN. 147 

ten months in a small room, and in a state of { 



on seeing each other after ten months separa- 
tion, though in the same garrison, may be 
10 



complete separation from his fellow-prisoners, i 

and in total ignorance of the advantages gained ^ 

by his countrymen, but with most ample ) 

details of their defeats, and particularly of \ 

the sequestration of his estate with that of the \ 

other Carolina rebels. '<:, 

After Andre's arrest. Colonel Glazier, the \ 

governor of the castle, sent to advise General } 

Gadsden to prepare himself for the worst, < 

intimatino; that as General Washino;ton had < 

been assured of retaliation if Andre was <; 

executed, it was not unlikely that he would \ 

be the person selected. To this message he < 

magnanimously replied, " That he was always !■ 

prepared to die for his country, and that he ;< 

would rather ascend the scaffold than purchase I 

with his life the dishonour of his country." < 

In the course of 1781, the victories of ^ 

General Greene procured an equivalent for j 

the release of all the prisoners belonging to \ 
South Carolina. Mr. Gadsden was discharged ^ J 

from close confinement, and rejoined his J 

fellow-prisoners. The reciprocal congratula- j 

tions on the chano;e of circumstances, and j 



j 14-8 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

) raore easily conceived than expressed. They 

^ were all conveyed by water from St. Augustine 

{ to Philadelphia, and there delivered. On 

J their arrival they were informed, for the fii'st 

I time, of the happy turn American affairs had 

j taken subsequent to Gates' defeat. General 

s Gadsden hastened back to Carolina to aid in 

\ recovering it from the British. He v/as elected 

•; a member of th§ assembly which met at 

j Jacksonborough in 1782. 

I General Gadsden continued in the country 

\ throughout the year 1782, serving as one of 

j the governor's council. On the 14th of 

f, December, 1782, he, with the American army 

5 and citizens, made their triumphant entry into 

J Charleston in the rear of the evacuating 

\ British. In the first moment of his return, 

\ after an absence of more than two years, he 

;; had the pleasure of seeing the British fleet, 

\ upward of three hundred sail, in the act of 

s departing from the port, and the capital, as 

] well as the country, restored to its proper 

\ owners. Mr. Gadsden henceforward devoted 

) himself to private pursuits, but occasionally 

\ served in the assembly, and with unspeakable 

f delight in the two state conventions ; the one 

I for the ratification of the national constitution 



CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 149 



in ViS^, and the other for revising the state J 

constitution in 1790. I 

He survived his 81st 3^ear, generally en- I 

joying good health, and at last died, more j 

I from the consequences of an accidental fall < 

^ than the weight of disease, oi decays of nature. ] 

;! His opinions of lawyers were not favourable. \ 

(,' He considered their pleadings as generally ^ 

J tending to obscure what was plain, and to I 

^ make difficulties where there were none ; and !^ 

much more subservient to render their trade '' 

lucrative than to advance justice. He adhered 
to that clause of Mr. Locke's fundamental 
constitution, which makes it " a base and vile 
thing to plead for money or reward;" and 
wished that the lawyers, when necessary to 
justice, should be provided with salariei? at the 
public expense, like the judges, thaK they 
might be saved from the shame of hiring their 
tongues to the first who offered or gave the 
largest fee. Of physicians he thought very 
little. He considered temperance and exercise 
superior to all their prescriptions, and that in 
m.ost cases they rendered them altogether 
unnecessary. In many things he was particu- 
lar. His passions were strong, and requirea 
all his religion and philosophy to curb them. 




HEROES OF THE E.EVOLUTIOK. <, 

j His patriotism was both disinterested and i 

j ardent. He declined all offices of profit, and \ 

^ through life refused to take the compensations J 

? annexed by law to such offices of trust as were s 

\ conferred on him. His character was im- s 

J pressed with the hardihood of antiquity ; and ;; 

> he possessed an erect, firm, intrepid mind, 1; 

s which was well calculated for buffeting with > 

s f evolutionary storms." ^ 

^ I 



HORATIO GATES, 

Major-General in the American Army ^ 

General Gates was a native of Eno-land, S 

and was born in the year 1728. He was j 

educated to the military profession, and entered \ 

the British army at an early age, in the capa- s 

city of lieutenant, where he laid the foundation \ 

of his future military excellence. Without I; 

purchase he obtained the rank of major. He ;» 

was aid to General Monckton at the capture j 

of Martinico, and after the peace of Aix-la- > 

Chapelle he was among the first troops which ] 

landed at Halifax under General Cornwallis. s 

He was an officer in the army which accom- J 

panied the unfortunate Braddock in the ex- \ 

pedition against Fort du Quesne, in the year \ 

1755, and was shot through the body. \ 

When peace was concluded, he purchased ^ 

an estate in Virginia, where he resided until \ 

the commencement of the American war, in <J 

1775. Having evinced his zeal and attach- $ 

ment to the violated rights of his adopted j 

country, and sustaining a high military reputa- ^ 

tion, he was appointed by Congress adjutant- J 

151 ; 






152 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

general, with the rank of brigadier, and he 
accompanied General Washington to the 
American camp at Cambridge, in July, 1775, 
where he was employed for some time in a 
subordinate, but highly useful, capacity. 

In June, 1776, Gates was appointed to the 
command of the army of Canada, and on 
reaching Ticonderoga, he still claimed the 
command of it, though it was no longer in 
Canada, and was in the department of General 
Schuyler, a senior officer, who had rendered 
eminent services in that command. On rep- 
resentation to Congress, it was declared not to 
be their intention to place Gates over Schuyler, 
and it was recommended to these officers to 
endeavour to cooperate harmoniously. Gen- 
eral Schuyler was, however, shortly after 
directed by Congress to resume the command 
of the northern department, and General Gates 
withdrew himself from it; after which he 
repaired to head-quarters, and joined the army 
under General Washington in Jersey. 

Owing to the prevalent dissatisfaction with 
the conduct of General Schuyler in the eva- 
cuation of Ticonderoga, Gates was again di- 
rected to take command. He arrived about the 
21st of August, and continued the exertions 



HORATIO GATES. 153 



to restore the affairs of the department, which 

; had been so much depressed by the losses \ 

< consequent on the evacuation of Ticonderoga. \ 
It was fortunate for General Gates that the \ 

I retreat from Ticonderoga had been conducted ^ 

j under other auspices than his, and that he took \ 

the command when the indefatigable, but | 

s unrequited labours of Schuyler, and the courage { 

< of Stark and his mountaineers, had already \ 
> ensured the ultimate defeat of Burgoyne. \ 
J Burgoyne, after crossing the Hudson, advan- v 
!• ced along its side, and encamped on the height, < 
^ about two miles from Gates' camp, which was I 
\ three miles above Stillwater. This movement i 
I was the subject of much discussion. Some \ 
\ charged it on the impetuosity of the general, )• 

< and alleged that it was premature, before he } 
] was sure of aid from the royal forces posted l 

in New York, but he pleaded the peremptory ^ 

orders of his superiors. The rapid advance of \ 

Burgoyne, and especially his passage of the \ 

North River, added much to the impracticabil- \ 

ity of his future retreat, and made the ruin of '^ 

his army in a great degree unavoidable. The ^ 

Americans, elated with their successes at \ 

\ Bennington and Fort Schuyler, thought no J 

\ more of retreating, but came out to meet the j 

i > 



j 154 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. ^ 

I advancing British, and engaged thenri with '< 

\ firmness and resolution. J 

j The attack began a little before mid-day, \ 

< September 19th, betvi^een the scouting parties \ 

i ' of the two armies. The commanders of both ;. 

j sides supported and remforced their respec- J 

I tive parties. The conflict, though severe, was < 

s only partial for an hour and a half; but after ■'; 

a short pause, it became general, and continued J 



for three hours without any intermission. A 

constant blaze of fire was kept up, and both i> 

armies seemed determined on death or victory. J 

I The Americans and British alternately drove, s 

^ and were driven by each other. The British I 

I artillery fell into our possession at every ^^ 

J charge, but we could neither turn the pieces ^ 

^ upon the enemy nor bring them off, so sudden 

^ were the alternate advantages. It was a 

J gallant conflict, in .which death, by familiarity, 

5 lost his terrors ; and such was the order of the 

s Americans, that, as General Wilkinson states, •^ 

J the wounded men, alter having their wounos j 

I dressed, in many instances returned again into I 

>^ the battle. Men, and particularly officers, > 

dropped every moment, and on every side. ^ 

Several of the Americans placed themselves J 

on high trees, and as often as they could dis- j 



MOTIATIO GATES. 



155 



tinguish an officer's uniform, took him off by 
deliberately aiming at his person. Few actions 
have been characterized by more obstinacy 
in attack or defence. The British repeatedly 
tried their bayonets, but without their usual 
success in the use of that weapon. 

The British lost upwards of five hundred 
men, including their killed, wounded, and 
prisoners. The Americans, inclusive of the 
missing, lost three hundred and nineteen. 
Thirty-six out of forty-eiglit British artillerists 
were killed or wounded. The 62d British 
regiment, which was five hundred strong 
when it left Canada, was reduced to sixty men, 
and four or five officers. In this eno-ao-ement 
General Gates, assisted by Generals Lincoln 
and Arnold, commanded the American army, 
and General Burgoyne was at the head of his 
army, and Generals Phillips, Reidesel, and 
Frazer, with their respective commands, were 
actively engaged. 

This battle was fought by the general con- 
cert and zealous cooperation of the corps 
engaged, and was sustained more by individual 
courage than military discipline. General 
Arnold, who afterwards traitorously deserted 
nis country, behaved with the most undaunted 



J 



5 1-56 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

I courage, leading on the troops, and encouraging 

i them by his personal efforts and daring ex- 

r; posure. The gallant Colonel Morgan obtained 

;J immortal honour on this day. Lieutenant- 

s Colonel Brooks, with the eighth Massachusetts' 

< reo;iment, remained in the field till about eleven 

•", o'clock, and was the last who retired. Major 

Hull commanded a detachment of three hun- 
dred men, who fought with such signal ardour 



^ that more than half of them were killed. !! 

^ The whole number of Americans engaged in J 

j this action was about two thousand five hun- \ 

i dred; the remainder of the army, from its > 

J unfavourable situation, took little or no part in j 

^ the action. s 

1; Each army claimed the victory, and each ^ 

! believed himself to have beaten, with only J 

s part of its force, nearly the whole of the .'' 

i enemy. The advantage, however, was de- > 

f cidedly in favour of the Americans. In every 

^ quarter they had been the assailants, and after 

an encounter of several hours they had not lost 

a single inch of ground. 

General Gates, whose numbers increased 

daily, remained on his old ground. His right, 

which extended to the river, had been rendered 



J HORATIO GATES. 157 > 

;, unassailable, and he used great industry t*. ^ 

J strengthen his left. S 

i Both armies retained their position until the- \ 

? 7th of October ; Burgoyne, in the hope of beinp ? 

\ relieved by Sir Henry Clinton ; and Gates, in ! 

s he confidence of growing stronger every day ^ 

I and of rendering the destruction of his enemy ^ 

< more certain. But receiving no further in \ 

I telligence from Sir Henry, the British general j 

? determined to make one more trial of strength J 

J with his adversary. The following account of I 

i the brilliant affair of the 7th of October, 1777, ^ 

s is given in Thacher's Military Journal : — \ 

I " I am fortunate enough to obtain from our J 

i officers, a particular account of the glorious ? 

\ event of the 7th instant. The advanced parties ^ 

,^ of the two armies came into contact about I 

J three o'clock on Tuesday afternoon, and imme- < 

I diately displayed their hostile attitude. The < 

J Americans soon approached the royal army, <; 

\ and each party in defiance awaited the deadly ^ 

A blow. The gallant Colonel Morgan, at the [^ 

^ head of his famous rifle corps, and Major j 

I Dearborn, leading a detachment of infantry, J 

■5 commenced the action, and rushed coura- ^ 

;; geously on the British grenadiers, commanded i 

i by Major Ackland j and the furious attack wai \ 



158 HEROES OF THE P.EVOLUTION. 

most firmly resisted. In all parts of the field 
the conflict became extremely arduous and 

obstinate ; an unconquerable spirit on each side s 

disdaining to yield the palm of victory. j 

Death appeared to have lost his terrors ; brea- \ 

ches in the ranks were no sooner made thau 5 

supplied by fresh combatants, awaiting a J 

similar fate. At length the Americans press > 

forward with renewed strength and ardour, and J 

^ compel the whole British line, commanded by ? 

;;. Burgoyne himself, to yield to their deadly fire, !; 

j and they retreat in disorder. The German > 

^ troops remain firmly posted at their lines} ^ 

J these were now boldly assaulted by Brigadier- < 

\ General Learned, and Lieutenant-Colonel J 

5 Brooks, at the head of their respective com- \ 

< mands, with such intrepidity, that the works \ 

^ were carried, and their brave commander, ^ 

Lieutenant-Colonel Breyman, was slain. The < 

Germans were pursued to their encampment, ^ 

which, with all the equipage of the brigade, \ 

fell into our hands. Colonel Cilley, of Gene- \ 

ral Poor's brigade, having acquitted himself | 

honourably, was seen astride on a brass field- j 

piece, exulting in the capture. Major Hull, ^ 

of the Massachusetts line, was among those s 

who so bravely stormed the enemy's entrench- ;; 



i.-_-i.-^^--C%^-\----w-j 



< HOUATIO GATES. 159 i 

j ment, and acted a conspicuous part. General | 

^ Arnold, in consequence of a serious misunder- i 

^ standing with General Gates, was not vested > 

,^ with any command, by which he was ex- \ 

J ceedingly chagrined and irritated. He en- ^ 

< tared the field, however, and his conduct was \ 
[j marked with intemperate rashness ; flourishing \ 
j his sword, and animating the troops, he struck |; 

s 
s 



^ his sword, and animating the troops, he struck 

an officer on the head without cause, and gave 
him a considerable wound. He exposed him- 
s' self to every danger, and, with a small party 

J of riflemen, rushed into the rear of the enemy, 



where he received a ball which fractured his ^, 

leg, and his horse was killed under him. ? 



^ Nightfall put a stop to our brilliant career, J- 

;i though the victory was most decisive ; and it > 

s 



is with pride and exultation that we recount > 

the triumph of American bravery. Besides J 

\ Lieutenant-Colonel Breyman slain. General ^ 

j Frazer, one of the most valuable officers in the ? 

I British service, was mortally wounded, and ? 

i survived but a few hours. Frazer was the soul \> 

s of the British army, and was just changing the 'j 

I disposition of a part of the troops to repel a S 

J strong impression which the Americans had ^ 

r; made, and were still making, on the British ^ 

right, when Morgan called together two or i 



160 HEROES OF THE RE /OLUTION. 

three of his best marksmen, and pointing to 

Frazer, said, ' Do you see that gallant officer ? s 

that is General Frazer — I respect and honour \ 

him ; but it is necessary he should die.' This ,; 

was enough. Frazer immediately received I" 

his mortal wound, and was carried off the J 

field. Sir Francis Clark, aid-de-camp to Gene- ^ 

ral Burgoyne, was brought into our camp with \ 

a mortal wound, and Major Ackland, who \ 

commanded the British grenadiers^ was wound- I; 

ed through both legs, and is our prisoner. > 

Several other officers, and about two hundred j 

privates, are prisoners in our hands, with nine i 

pieces of cannon, and a considerable supply I 

of ammunition, which was much wanted for < 

our troops. The loss on our side is supposed j 

not to exceed thirty killed, and one hundred ? 

wounded, in obtaining this signal victory." J 

The position of the British army, after the ^ 

action of the 7th, was so dangerous, that an \ 

immediate and total change of position became \ 

necessary, and Burgoyne took immediate J 

5 measures to regain his former camp at Sara- j 

i toga. There he arrived with little molestation j 

j from his adversary. His provisions being now ; 

^ reduced to the supply of a few da3^s, the < 

^ transports of artillery and baggage towards j 



{ HORATIO GATES. 161 

s Canada being rendered impracticable by the 

\ judicious measures of his adversary, the British 

I general resolved upon a rapid retreat, merely \ 

{ with what the soldiers could carry. On ex- § 

j amination, however, it was found that they 

j were deprived even of this resource, as the 

;; passes through which their route lay, were so 

s strongly guarded, that nothing but artillery 

^s could clear them. In this desperate situation 

fj a parley took place, and on the 17th of Octo- 

',' ber the whole army surrendered to General 

\ Gates. 

^^ The prize obtained consisted of more than 

s five thousand prisoners, forty-two pieces of 

^^ brass ordnance, seven thousand muskets, clo- !> 

? thinor for seven thousand men, with a orrea "!> 

I quantity of tents, and other military stores. ^ 

} Soon after the convention was signed, the j 

s Americans marched into their lines, and were < 

J kept there until the royal army had deposited I 

< their arms at the place appointed. The deli- J 

\ cacy with which this business was conducted, \ 

J reflected honour on the American general. I 

\ Nor did the politeness of Gates end here, ;! 

s Every circumstance was withheld that could j 

J constitute a triumph in the American army, ^ 
The captive general was received by his con- 



s ine capiive general was receivea dv nis con- <: 

< 



162 



HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



queror with respect and kindness. A number 
of the principal officers of both armies met at 
General Gates' quarters, and for a while 
seemed to forget, in social and convivial plea- 
sures, that they had been enemies. 

General Wilkinson gives the following 
account of the meeting between General Bur- 
goyne and General Gates : 

" General Gates, advised of Burgoyne's 
approach, met him at the head of his camp, 
Burgoyne in a rich royal uniform, and Gates 
in a plain blue frock. When they had ap- 
proached nearly within sword's length, they 
reined up and halted. I then named the 
gentleman, and General Burgoyne, raising his 
hat most gracefully, said, ' The fortune of war. 
General Gates, has made me your prisoner;' 
to which the conqueror, returning a courtly 
salute, promptly replied, 'I shall always be 
ready to bear testimony that it has not been 
through any fault of your excellency.' " 

The thanks of Congress were voted to Gene- 
ral Gates and his army ; and a medal of gold, 
in commemoration of this great event, was 
ordered to be struck, to be presented to him 
by the president, in the name of the United 
States. 



HORATIO GATES. 163 < 



It was not long after that the wonderful 
discovery was supposed to be made, that the 
illustrious Washington was incompetent to the 
task of conducting the operations of the Ame- 
rican army, and that General Gates, if elevated 
to the chief command, would speedily melior- 
ate the condition of our affairs. There were 
those who imputed to General Gates himself a 
principal agency in the affair, which, how- 
ever, he promptly disavowed. But certain it 
is, that a private correspondence was main- 
tained between him and the intriguing General 
Conway, in which the measures pursued by 
General Washington are criticised and repro- 
bated ; and in one of Conway's letters, he 
pointedly ascribes our want of success to a 
weak general and bad counsellors. Genera 
Gates, on finding that General Washington 
had been apprised of the correspondence, 
addressed his excellency, requesting that he 
would disclose the name of his informant ; and 
in violation of the rules of decorum, he 
addressed the commander-in-chief on a subject 
of extreme delicacy, in an open letter trans- 
mitted to the president of Congress. General 
Washington, however, did not hesitate to 
disclose the name and circumstances which 
11 



J ♦ 

> tb4> HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

J brousjht the affair to light. General Gates^ 

5 then, with inexcusable disingenuousness, at- 

/ tempted to vindicate the conduct of Conway, 

^ and to deny that the letter contained the repre- 

5 hensible expressions in question, but utterly 

$ refused to produce the oriojinal letter. This 

< subject, however, was so ably and candidly 

^ discussed by General Washington, as to cover 

? his adversary with shame and humiliation. It 

was thought inexcusable in Gates, that he ne- 
glected to communicate to the commander-in- 
chief an account of so important an event as 
the capture of the British army at Saratoga, 
but left his excellency to obtain the information 
by common report. 

Dr. Thacher, in his Military Journal, relates 
the following anecdote : " Mr. T , an en- 
sign in our regiment, has, for some time, dis-^ 
covered symptoms of mental derangement. 
Yesterday he intruded himself at General Gates' 
head-quarters, and after some amusing conversa- 
tion, he put himself in the attitude of devotion, 
and prayed that God would pardon General 
Gates for endeavouring to supersede that god- 
like man, Washington. The general appeared 
to be much disturbed, and directed Mr. Pierce, 
fiis aid-de-carap, to take him away." 



HORATIO GATES. 165 



S 

I On the 13th of June, 1780, General Gates ^ 



was appointed to the chief command of the 
southern army. Rich in fame from the fields 
of Saratoga, he hastened to execute the high 
and important trust ; and the arrival of an 
officer so exalted in reputation, had an imme- 
diate and happy effect on the spirits of the 
soldiery and the hopes of the people. It was 
anticipated that he who had humbled Great 



Britain on the heights of the Hudson, and J 

'\ liberated New York from a formidable invasion, '< 

i would prove no less successful in the south, } 

;>' and become the del. <-rer of Carolina and .; 

;i Georgia from lawless rapine and military rule. j 

> But anticipations were vain, and the best j 
'.; founded hopes were blighted ! In the first and ;! 

> only encounter which he had with Lord Corn- < 

> wallis, at Camden, August 15th, he suffered a s 
;> total defeat, and was obliged to fly from the < 
s enemy for personal safety.* 
< Proudly calculating on the weight of his 
\ name, and too confident in his own superiority, 
'' he slighted the counsel which he ouo;ht to have 



> 
;! respected, and hurrying impetuously into the < 

s * When the appointment of General Gates to the chiel 

i, command of the southern army was announced. General 

i Lee remarked, that "his northern laurels wQuld soon be 

^ exchanged/or southern willows." 



166 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTIOh 

6eld of battle, his tide of popularity ebbed as 
fast at Camden as it had flowed at Saratoga. 
It would be great injustice, however, to 



J attribute the misfortune altogether to the com- \ 

f mander, under his peculiar circumstances, A f 



large proportion of his force consisted of law 
militia, who were panic-struck, and fled at the 
first fire ; their rout was absolute and irretriev- 
able. In vain did Gates attempt to rally them 
That their speed might be the greater, they 
threw away their arms and accoutrements, and 
dashed into the woods and swamps for safety. 
^ A rout more perfect h vild and disorderly, or 

^ marked with greater consternation and dismay, 

•; was never witnessed. Honour, manhood, 

'^, country, home, every recollection sacred to J 

^ the feelings of the soldier and the soul of the < 

J brave, was merged in an ignominious love of life. > 

$ But from the moment General Gates assumed 

;> the command in the south, his former judgment 

I and fortune seemed to forsake him. He waa \ 

< anxious to come to action immediately, and to 

^ terminate the war by a few bold and energetic 

j measures j and two days after his arrival in j 

r camp, he began his march to meet the enemy, j 

J without properly estimating his force. J 

I The active spirits of the place being roused ^ 



^^^^■i 



HORATIO GATES. 167 

\nd encouraojed by the presence of a con- 
siderable army, and daily flocking to the 
standard of their country, General Gates, by a 
delay of action, had much to gain in point of 
numbers. To the prospects of the enemy, on 
the contrary, delay would have been ruinous. 
To them there was no alternative but immediate 
battle and victory, or immediate retreat. Such, 
however, was the nature of the country, and 
the distance and relative position of the two 
armies, that to compel the Americans to action 
was impossible. The imprudence of the 
American general in hazarding an engagement 
at this time, is further manifested by the fact, 
that in troops on whose firmness he could safely 
rely, he was greatly inferior to his foe, they 
amounting to sixteen hundred veteran and 
highly disciplined regulars, and he having less 
than a thousand continentals. 

General Gates having retreated to Salisbury, 
and thence to Hillsborough, he there succeeded 
in collecting around him the fragments of an 
army. Being soon after reinforced by several 
small bodies of regulars and militia, he again 
advanced towards the south, and took post in 
Charlotte. Here he continued in command 
until the 5th day of October, fifty days aftei 



\ , ----- . 

;J 168 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. j 

\ ^ \ 

e his defeat at Camden, when Congress passed a '? 

'? resolution requiring the commander-in-chief to < 

^ order a court of inquiry on his conduct, as j 
commander of the southern army, and to ap- i 
point some other officer to that command. < 
The inquiry resulted in his acquittal; and it J 

\ was the general opinion that he was not treated \ 

j by Congress with that delicacy, or indeed s 

'^ gratitude, that was due to an officer of his j 

j acknowledged merit. He, however, received < 

s the order of his supersedure and suspension, ^ 

\ and resigned the command to General Greene <; 

'I with becoming dignity, as is manifested, much j 

I to his credit, in the following order : 

f ^^ Head -quarters, Charlotte, 3d Dec, 1780. 

> Parole, Springfield — countersign, Greene. 

J "The honourable Major-General Greene, 

I who arrived yesterday afternoon in Charlotte, 

J being appointed by his excellency General 

.' Washington, with the approbation of the 

J honourable Congress, to the command of the 

J southern army, all orders will, for the future, 

J issue from him, and all reports are to be made 

^ to him. 

s' " General Gates returns his sincere and 

< grateful thanks to the southern army for their 

< perseverance, fortitude, and patient enduranc» 



informed of his appointment to supersede him, 
declared his confidence in his military talents, 
and his willingness " to serve under him." 



J HORATIO GATES. 169 ^ 

<; of all the hardships and sufferings they h?ve j 

^ undero-one while under his command. He 

? anxiously hopes their misfortunes will cease \ 

\ therewith, and that victory, and the glorious j 

J. advantages of it, may be the future portion of 

^ the southern army." 

I General Greene had always been, and con* 

j tinued to be, the firm advocate of the reputa* 

j tion of General Gates, particularly if he heard i 

5 it assailed with asperity ; and still believed and \ 

j asserted, that if there was any mistake in the s 

J conduct of Gates, it was in hazarding an action ', 



at all against such superior force ; and when i 



^ aeCiarea ins COXUluenct; m ins juiiiiaij Laicnw, J, 

i and his willingness " to serve under him." ^ 

General Gates was reinstated in his military ;> 

I 



i command in the main army, in 1782 ; but the 

< great scenes of war were now passed, and he 

I could only participate in the painful scene of J 

!; a final separation. ^ 

\ In the midst of his misfortune. General Gates > 

\ was called to mourn the afflictive dispensation j 

5 of Providence, in the death of his only son. \ 



J Major Garden, in his excellent publication, has j 

> recorded the following affecting anecdote, j 

i which he received from Dr. William Reed : 

s 
s 

\ 



I /70 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. \ 

J " Having occasion to call on General Gates, ? 

^ relative to the business of the department under ^ 

5 my immediate charge, I found him traversing 

I the apartment which he occupied, under the } 

< influence of high excitement ; his agitation i 

i was excessive — every feature of his counte- J 

i nance, every gesture betrayed it. Oflicial des- { 

J patches, informing him that he was superseded, ^ 

;> and that the command of the southern army s 

^ had been transferred to General Greene, had ^ 

J just been received and perused by him. His s 

'; countenance, however, betrayed no expression j 

? of irritation or resentment ; it was sensibility { 

i alone that caused his emotion. An open letter, > 

\ which he held in his hand, was often raised to ^ 

I his lips, and kissed with devotion, while the \ 

exclamation repeatedly escaped them — ' Great 
man! Noble, generous procedure I' When 
the tumult of his mind h3d subsided, and his 
thoughts found utterance, he, with strong ex- 
pression of feeling, exclaimed, * I have received 
this day a communication from the commander- 
in-chief, which has conveyed more consolation 
to my bosom, more ineffable delight to my 
heart, than I had believed it possible for it ever 
to have felt again. With affectionate tender- 
ness he sympathizes with me in my domestic 



HORATIO GATES. 171 



misfortunes, and condoles with me on the loss j 



differed widely from his own. He had a 
handsome person, and was gentlemanly in his 
manners, remarkably courteous to all, and gave 



I have sustained by the recent death of an only 

? son ; and then with peculiar delicacy, lament- J 

s in^ my misfortune in battle, assures me that his j 

confidence in my zeal and capacity is so little { 

impaired, that the command of the right wing ) 

of the army will be bestowed on me so soon as \ 

^ I can make it convenient to join him.' " \ 

^ After the peace he retired to his farm in J- 

^ Berkley county, Virginia, where he remained jl 

s until the year 1790, when he went to reside in J 

;; New York, having first emancipated his slaves, I 

s' and made a pecuniary provision for such as i 

J were not able to provide for themselves. \ 

\ Some of them would not leave him, but con 

\ tinned in his family, 

^ On his arrival at New York, the freedom of 



\ 

J the city was presented to him. In 1800 he ^ 

j accepted a seat in the legislature, but he re- \ 

{ tained it no longer than he conceived his \ 

\ services might be useful to the cause of liberty, j' 

] which he never abandoned. ;! 

j His political opinions did not separate him \ 

] from many respectable citizens, whose views \ 



172 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

indisputable marks of a social, amiable, and 
benevolent disposition. A. few weeks before 
his death he closed a letter to a friend in the 
foUov/ing words : — " I am very weak, and 
have evident signs of an approaching dissolu- 



Jay of April, 1806, aged seventy-eight years. 



1 



tion. But I have lived long enough, since I > 

have to see a mighty people animated with a ^ 

spirit to be free, and governed by transcendent '< 

abilities and honour." He died without pos- ;; 

erity, at his abode near New York, on the 10th <^ 






NATHAN HALE, 



<J Captain in the American Army 



\ After the unfortunate engagement on Long >, 

;. [sland, General Washington called a council j 

^ of war, who determined on an immediate re- \ 

'< treat to New York. The intention was pru- I 

>, dently concealed from the army, who knew s 

^ not whither they were going, but imagined it '' 

> was to attack the enemy. The field artillery, i 

I tents, baggage, and about nine thousand men, I' 

s were conveyed to the city of New York, over > 

\ the East River, more than a mile wide, in less < 

\ than thirteen hours, and without the knowledge \ 

\ of the British, though not six hundred yards ;; 

J distant. Providence in a remarkable manner \ 

\ favoured the retreating army. The wind, ;> 

;. which seemed to prevent the troops getting \ 

\ over at the appointed hour, afterward shifted \ 

\ to their wishes. c; 

J Perhaps the fate of America was never sus- ? 

i pended by a more brittle thread than previously \ 

\ to this memorable retreat. A spectacle is here ) 

\ presented of an army destined for the defence j 



of a great continent, driven to the narrow ^ 



173 



174 HEROES OF THE REVOLDTiniL. 



borders of an island, with a victorious army j 

double its number in front, with navigable J 

waters in its rear ; constantly liable to have its !; 

communication cut off by the enemy's navy, I 

and every moment exposed to an attack. The s 

\ presence of mind which animated the com- J 

i mander-in-chief in this critical situation, the ^ 

? prudence with which all the necessary measures 1; 
? were executed, redounded as much or more to 
> his honour than the most brilliant victories. 
I An army, to which America looked for safety, 
< preserved; a general who was considered as 

J an host himself, saved for the future necessities \ 

\ of his country. Had not, however, the cir- j 

\ cumstances of the night, of the wind and ? 

I weather, been favourable, the plan, however i 

I well concerted, must have been defeated. To J 

I a good Providence, therefore, are the people J; 

^ of America indebted for the complete success j; 

^ of an enterprise so important in its consequences. '^ 

^ This retreat left the British in complete ? 

J possession of Long Island. What would be j 

s their future operations remained uncertain. J 

\ To obtain information of their situation, their j 

(, strength, and future movements, was of high | 

J importance. For this purpose. General Wash- i 
mgton applied to Colonel Knowlton, who 



NATHAN HALE. 175 J 

commanded a regiment of light infantry, > 

J which formed the rear of the American army, ^ 

^ and desired him to adopt some mode of gaining j 

\ the necessary information. Colonel Knowlton J 

I communicated this request to Captain Nathan j 

5 Hale, of Connecticut, who was a captain m i 

i his regiment. I- 

.] This young officer, animated by a sense of \ 

\ duty, and considering that an opportunity pre- ij 

\ sented itself by which he might be useful to J 

\ his country, at once offered himself a volunteer s 

■; for this hazardous service. He passed in dis- j; 

J guise to Long Island, and examined every part \ 

j of the British army, and obtained the best !; 

\ possible information respecting their situation \ 

) and future operations. ] 

{ In his attempt to return, he was apprehended, s 

s carried before Sir William Howe, and the ^ 

j proof of his object was so clear, that he ^ 

J frankly acknowledged who he was, and what \ 

^ were his views. Sir William How^e at once ^ 

) gave an order to have him executed the next < 

j morning. J 

) This order was accordingly executed in the / 

<; most unfeeling manner, and by as great a !■ 

\ savage as ever disgraced humanity. A clergy- ^ 



f man, whose attendance he desired, was refused > 



176 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



of Captain Hale to observe, that his motives 
for engaging in this service were entirely 



others in similar circumstances. Neither ex- 
pectation of promotion, nor pecuniary reward, 
induced him to this attempt. A sense of duty, 



him J a Bible, for a few moments' devotion, <; 

was not procured, although he wished it. I; 

Letters which, on the morning of his execution, i 

he wrote to his mother and other friends, were > 

destroyed ; and this very extraordinary reason ^ 

given by the provost-martial, " That the rebel" s 

should not IcnotD they had a man in their army J 

who could die with so much firmness. ^^ ^ 

Unknown to all around him, without a single J 

friend to offer him the least consolation, thus ^ 

fell as amiable and as worthy a young man as J 

America could boast, with this as his dying < 

observation, that " he only lamented that he had \ 

? but one life to lose for his country, ^^ f 

\ Although the manner of this execution will ^ 

I ever be abhorred by every friend to humanity 5 

< and religion, yet there cannot be a question but \ 
J that the sentence was conformable to the rules \ 

< of war, and the practice of nations in similar J 
S cases. ^ 
> It is, however, but justice to the character J 



\ tor engagmg in tms service were eniireiy s 

■ different from those which generally influence J 

i 

> 




NATHAN HALE. 177 

a hope that he might in this way be useful to 
his country, and an opinion which he had 
adopted, that every kind of service necessary 
to the general good became honourable by being 
necessary, were the great motives which in- 
duced him to engage in an enterprise by which 

his connexions lost a most amiable friend, and l 
his country one of its most promising supporters • ^ 

The fate of this unfortunate young man I; 

J excites the most interesting reflections. To see \ 

? such a character, in the flower of youth, ^ 

^ cheerfully treading in the most hazardous paths, J 

j influenced by the purest intentions, and only J 

\ emulous to do good to his country, without the s 

> imputation of a crime, fall a victim to policy, ^ 

^ must have been wounding to the feelings even ? 

\ of his enemies. ^ 

? , Should a comparison be drawn between \ 

\ Major Andre and Captain Hale, injustice would J 

\ be done to the latter, should he not be placed ^ 

\ on an equal ground with the former. While ^ 

\ i-lmost every historian of the American revo- \ 

J lution has celebrated the virtues, and lamented ^ 

< the fate of Andre, Hale has remained unnoticed, s 
k and it is scarcely known such a character 
J existed. 
j To the memory of Andre, his country has 



178 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTlOrf. ') 



\ erected the most magnificent monuments, and ;! 

\ bestowed on his family the highest honours J 

^ and most liberal rewards. To the memory ol J 

> Hale, not a stone has been erected, nor an j 

I inscription to preserve his ashes from insult ! ) 

I I 

\ . 1 

I ■ I 



\ 



{ ISAAC HAYNE, J 

( Colonel in the American Army. S 

J **This gentleman had been a distinguished < 

\ and very active of&cer in the American service, I; 

1; previous to the subjugation of Charleston i 

^ When this event took place, he found himself j 

J called to a separation from his family, a dere- <^ 

I ^ liction of his property, and submission to the j 

i conqueror. In this situation he thought it his i 

^ duty to become a voluntary prisoner, and take j 

',> his parole. On surrendering himself, he offered ^ 

^> to engage and stand bound on the principles of !• 

'^ honour, to do nothing prejudicial to the British '/ 

J interest until he was exchanged ; but his abilities < 

Ij and services were of such consideration to his < 

> country, that he was refused a parole, and told > 

^ tie must become a British subject, or submit to ? 

'^ close confinement. J 

J *' His family was then in a distant part of i 

^f the country, and in great distress by sickness, ^ 

\ and from the ravages of the royalists in their \ 

\ neighbourhood. Thus he seemed impelled to 

.'j acknowledge himself the subject of a govern- 

) ment he had relinquished from the purest 
\ 12 179 

i 



j 180 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

] principles, or renounce his tenderest connexions, 

\ and leave them without a possibility of his 

{ assistance, and at a moment when he hourly 

< expected to hear of the death of an affectionate 

I wife, ill of the small-pox. 

j "In this state of anxiety, he subscribed a 

\ declaration of his allegiance to the king of 

) Great Britain, with this express exception, that 

j he should never be required to take arms 

i against his country. Notwithstanding this, he 

j was soon and repeatedly called upon to arm in 

i support of a government he detested, or to 

! submit to the severest punishment. Brigadier- 

j General Patterson, commandant of the garrison, 

)' and the intendant of the British police, a Mr. 

J Simpson, had both assured Colonel Hayne that 

i no such thing would be required ; and added, 



country without the aid of its inhabitants, it 
would be time to quit it.' 

" Colonel Hayne considered a requisition to 
act in British service, after assurances that this 
would never be required, as a breach of con- 
tract, and a release in the eye of conscience, 
from any obligation on his part. Accordingly 
he took the first opportunity of resuming his 
arms as an American, assumed the command 



\ * that when the royal army could not defend a 

J rniin+rv vi/ifVinnf fhp nid of its inhahifants it S 



ISAAC HAYNE. 



181 



of his own regiment; and all fond of their 
former commander, Colonel Hayne marched 
with a defensible body to the relief of his 
countrymen, then endeavouring to drive the 
British partizans, and keep them within the 
environs of Charleston. He very unfortunately, 
in a short time, fell into the hands of a strong 
British party, sent out for the recovery of a 
favourite officer, who had left the American 
cause, and become a devotee to the British 
government. 

" As soon as Colonel Hayne was captured, 
he was closely imprisoned. This was on the 
twenty-sixth of July. He was notified the 
same day, that a court of officers would as- 
semble the next day, to determine in what 
point of view he ought to be considered. On 
the twenty-ninth, he was informed that in 
consequence of a court of inquiry held the 
day before. Lord Rawdon and Lieutenant- 
Colonel Balfour had resolved upon his execution 
within two days. 

" His astonishment at these summary and 
illegal proceedings can scarcely be conceived. 
He wrote Lord Rawdon that he had no intima- 
tion of any thing more than a court of inquiry, 
to determine whether he should be considered 



t- 



^ 182 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. j 

^ as an American or a British subject : if the J 

J first, he ought to be set at liberty on parole ; if \ 



the last, he claimed a legal trial. He assured ! 

^ his lordship, that on a trial he had many things s 

5 to urge in his defence ; reasons that would be J 

s' weighty in a court of equity ; and concluded ^ 

^, his letter with observing, ' If, sir, I am refused \ 

\ this favour, which I cannot conceive from your ^' 

^ justice or humanity, I earnestly entreat that ^ 

> my execution may be deferred, that I may at s 

s least take a last farewell of my children, and J 

5 prepare for the solemn change.' < 

< " But his death predetermined, his enemies '^ 

s were deaf to the voice of compassion. The S 

• ~ - - - - - - ;; 

< 

s 



execution of his sentence was hastened, though 
he reputation and merits of this gentleman 
were such, that the whole city was zealous for 
his preservation. Not only the inhabitants in 
opposition to the British government, but even 
Lieutenant-Governor Bull, at the head of the 
royalists, interceded for his life. The principal 
ladies of Charleston endeavoured, by their 
compassionate interference, to arrest or in- 
fluence the relentless hand of power. They 
drew up and presented to Lord Rawdon, a i 

delicate and pathetic petition in his behalf. ^ 

His near relations, and his children, who bad j 



ISAAC HAYNE. 



183 



just performed the funeral rites over the orrave j 

of a tender mother, appeared on their bended j 

knees, to implore the life of their father. But j 

in spite of the supplications of children and J 

friends, strangers and foes, the flinty heart of j 

Lord Rawdon remained untouched, amidst J 

these scenes of sensibility and distress. No \ 

i melioration of the sentence could be obtained ; \ 

and this affectionate father took a final leave \ 

of his children in a manner that pierced the \ 

souls of the beholders. To the eldest of them, ^ 

a youth of but thirteen years of age, he de- J 

livered a transcript of his case, directed him s 

to convey it to Congress, and ordered him to ^ 

see that his father's remains were deposited in j 

the tomb of his ancestors. ^ 

"Pinioned like a criminal, this worthy > 

citizen walked with composure through crowdy J. 

of admiring spectators, with the dignity of the 'J 

philosopher, and the intrepidity of the Chris- > 

tian. He suffered as a hero, and was hanged !; 

as a felon, amidst the tears of the multitude, > 
and the curses of thousands, who execrated the 

perpetrators of this cruel deed." J 



r 



I i 



I CHARLES LEE, 



Major-General in the American Army. 



^ General Lee was an original genius, pos" 

.• sessing the most brilliant talents, great military 

> prowess, and extensive intelligence and know- J- 
;i ledge of the world. He was born in Waleh', ^ 
*! his family springing from the same parent stock jJ 
s' with the Earl of Leicester. J; 
;; He may be properly called a child of Mars, ^ 
i for he was an officer when but eleven years old. !• 

> His favourite study was the science of war, \ 

> and his warmest wish was to become dis- 5 
\ tinguished in it j but though possessed of a \ 
I military spirit, he was ardent in the pursuit of 

f. general knowledge. He acquired a competent 5 

\ skill in Greek and Latin, while his fondness for < 

J- travelling made him acquainted with the Italian, i 

1; Spanish, German, and French languages. \ 

^ In 1756, he came to America, captain of a 

; company of grenadiers, and was present at the j 

s defeat of General Abercombie at Ticonderoga, ( 

J where he received a severe wound. In 1762, f 

i lie bore a colonel's commission, and served ? 

under Burgoyne in Portugal, where he gr«^tly ;. 

184. ' i 



CHARLES LEE. 185 j 

distinguished himself, and received the strongest | 

/ recommendations for his gallantr}' ; but hii> { 

) early attachment to the American colonies, | 

^ evinced in his writings against the oppressive \ 

j acts of parliament, lost him the favour of the I 

i ministry. Despairing of promotion, and des- -I 

pising a life of inactivity, he left his native j 

^ soil, and entered into the service of his Polish I; 

j majesty, as one of his aids, with the rank of I; 

\ major-general. ^ 

;> His rambling disposition led him to travel all s 

< over Europe, during the years of 1771, 1772, \ 

\ and part of 1773, and his warmth of temper \ 

\ drew him into several rencounters, amon^ | 

'^ which was an affair of honour with an officer i 

^ in Italy. The contest was begun with swords, ^ 

J when the general lost two of his fingers. Re- '/> 

course was then had to pistols. His adversary ^ 

!; was slain, and he was obliged to flee from the v! 

\ country, in order that he might avoid the un- 



this unhappy circumstance. 

General Lee appeared to be influenced by 
an innate principle of republicanism; an at- 
tachment to these principles was implanted in 
the constitution of his mind, and he espoused 



? pleasant circumstances which might result from \ 



186 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. j 

.he cause of America as a champion of hei j 

emancipation from oppression. < 

Glowing with these sentiments, he embarked \ 

for this country, and arrived at New York on ^ 

the 10th of November, 1773. On his arrival ^ 

he became daily more enthusiastic in the cause J 

of liberty, and travelled rapidly through the 5 

colonies, animating, both by conversation, and s 

his eloquent pen, to a determined and perse ^ 

J vering resistance to British tyranny. c; 

< His enthusiasm in favour of the rights ol > 

i the colonies was such, that, after the battle of I 

? Lexington, he accepted a major-general's com- s 

j mission in the American army; though his I 

^ ambition had pointed out to him the post of ^^ 

J commander-in-chief as the object of his wishes ^ 

•^ Previous to this, however, he resigned his com- > 

^ mission in the British service, and relinquished \> 

\ his half-pay. This he did in a letter to the s 

J British secretary at war, in which he expressed \ 

^ his disapprobation of the oppressive measures \ 

\ of parliament, declaring them to be absolutely < 

I subversive of the rights and liberties of every S 

\ individual subject, so destructive to the whole } 

'f empire at large, and ultimately so ruinous t( ;J 

j his majesty's own person, dignity, and family J 

\ that he thought himself obliged in conscience, I 



j CHARLES LEE. 187 

\ as a citizen, Englishman, and soldier of a free 

\ state, to exert his utmost to defeat them. 
^^ Immediately upon receiving hia appointment, 

J he accompanied General Washington to the 

;; camp at Cambridge, where he arrived July 2d, 

J 1775, and wsls received with every mark of 

J respect. 

J As soon as it was discovered at Cambridge J 

■> that the British General Clinton had left Boston, J 

J General Lee was ordered to set forward, to I 

I observe his manoeuvres, and prepare to meet ^ 

J him in any part of the continent he might visit. ^ 

<J No man was better qualified, at this early stage j 

j of the war, to penetrate the designs of the ;! 

J enemy, than Lee. Nursed in the camp, and < 

J well versed in European tactics, the soldiers |; 

j believed him, of all other officers, the best abl I 

\ to face in the field an experienced British ^ 

;; veteran, and lead them on to victory. > 

i New York was supposed to be the object of I 

j the enemy, and hither he hastened with all < 

j possible expedition. Immediately on his ar- J 

) rival, Lee took the most active and prompt J 

j measures to put it in a state of defence. He > 

< disarmed all suspected persons within the reach i 

\ of his command, and proceeded with such ^ 

i rigour against the tories, as to give alarm at hii j 






^ and gallantry. 

' " Our hero had now reached the pinnacle of 

; his military glory 5 the eclat of his name alone 

} appeared to enchant and animate the most 

J desponding heart. But here we pause to con- 

emplate the humiliating reverse of human 



\ 188 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. / 

> assumption of military powers. From the ,• 

> tories he exacted a strong oath, and his bold ( 
J measures carried terror wherever he appeared. \ 
I "Not long after he was appointed to the <I 
<; command of the southern department, and in j 
') his travels through the country, he re<:eived j 
;j every testimony of high respect from the \ 

people. General Sir Henry Clinton, and Sir J 

Peter Parker, with a powerful fleet and army, s 

attempted the reduction of Charleston while s 

he was in command. The fleet anchored jj 

^ within half musket-shot of the fort on Sulli- <; 

j van's Island, where Col. Moultrie, one of the > 

I bravest and most intrepid of men, commanded. J 

;! A tremendous engagement ensued on the 28th J 

s of June, 1776, which lasted twelve hours J 

J without intermission. The whole British force <; 

\ was completely repulsed, after sufiering an \ 

) irreparable loss. > 

) " General Lee and Colonel Moultrie received / 

5 the thanks of Congress for their signal bravery > 




CHARLES LEE. 18-^ 



J events. He returned to the main army in J 

,^ October; and in marching at the head of a j 

j large detachment through the Jerseys, having, \ 

^ from a desire of retaining a separate command, ? 

^ delayed his march several days, in disobedience ^ 

j of express orders from the commander-in-chief, j 

j he was guilty of most culpable negligence in < 

^ regard to his personal security. He took up j 

> his quarters two or three miles from the main > 
I body, and lay for the night, December 1 3th, s 
J 1776, in a careless, exposed situation. In- \ 

< formation of this being communicated to ;! 
^ Colonel Harcourt, who commanded the British \ 
\' light-horse, he proceeded immediately to the i 
i house, fired into it, and obliged the general to ^ 
\ surrender himself a prisoner. They mounted 1; 
I him on a horse in haste, without his cloak or J 

< hat, and conveyed him in triumph to New s 

> York." \ 
i Lee was treated, while a prisoner, with J 
'p. great severity by the enemy, who affected to \ 

< consider him as a state prisoner and deserter l' 
;! • from the service of his Britannic majesty, and j 
\ denied the privileg-es of an American oflicer. \ 
\ General Washington promptly retaliated the j 
<; treatment received by Lee upon the British \ 
\ officers in his possession. This state of things ij 

\ I 



190 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. \ 

I existed until the capture of Burgoyne, when J 

J a complete change of treatment was observed \ 

\ towards Lee ; and he was shortly afterward \ 

j exchanged. > 

5 The first military act of General Lee after \ 

^ his exchange, closed his career in the American > 

5 army. Previous to the battle of Monmouth, ;! 

J his character in general was respectable. From s 

j the beginning of the contest, his unremitted k 

} zeal in the cause of America excited and di- J 

^ rected the military spirit of the whole conti- !; 

> nent; and his conversation inculcated the > 

J principles of liberty among all ranks of the ^ 

< people. '< 

I His important services excited the warm I 

^ gratitude of many of the friends of America. < 

\ Hence it is said that a strong party was formed \ 

s in Congress, and by some discontented officers { 

J in the army, to raise Lee to the first command : j 

i and it has been suggested by many, that General ^ 

J Lee's conduct at the battle of Monmouth was \ 

\ intended to eflfect this plan : for could the \ 

^ odium of the defeat have been at this time ? 

[ thrown on General Washington, there is great f 

j reason to suppose that he would have been de- ;! 

j prived of his command. ^ 

\ It is now to be seen how General Lee termi < 



i CHARLES LEE. 191 < 

I nated his military career. In the battle of ] 

^ Monmouth, on the 28th of June, 1778, he J 

'? commanded the van of the American troops, j 

I with orders from the commander-in-chief to I 

I attack the retreating enemy. Instead of \ 

< obeying this order, he conducted in an un- \ 

\\ worthy manner, and greatly disconcerted the { 

\ arrangements of the da}^ Washington, ad- Ij 

(' vancing to the field of battle, met him in his ;•' 



;. disorderly retreat, and accosted him with strong ;! 

s expressions of disapprobation. Lee, incapable s 

J of brooking even an implied indignity, and J 

\ unable to restrain the warmth of his resentment, \ 

used improper language in return, and some ^ 

irritation was excited on both sides. The ^ 

following letters immediately after passed be- ^ 

tween Lee and the commander-in-chief : ;, 

i Camp, English-Town, 1st July, 1778. < 

J Sir — From the knowledge that I have of ^ 

? your excellency's character, I must conclude ^ 

^ that nothing but the misinformation of some S 

j very stupid, or misrepresentation of some very s 

j wicked person, could have occasioned your < 

\ making use of such very singular expressions J 

( as you did, on my coming up to the ground ^^ 

'• where you had taken post : they implied that 



-~v 



192 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



t was guilty either of disobedience of orders^ 
want of conduct, or want of courage. Your 
excellency will, therefore, infinitely oblige me 
by letting me know on which of these three 
articles you ground your charge^ that I may 
prepare for my justification ; which I have the 
happiness to be confident I can do to the army, 
to the Congress, to America, and to the world 
in general. Your excellency must give me 
leave to observe, that neither yourself, nor 
those about your person, could, from your 
situation, be in the least judges of the merits or 
demerits of our manoeuvres ; and, to speak with 
a becoming pride, I can assert that to these J 

mancEuvres the success of the day was entirely < 

owing. I can boldly say, that had we remained J 

on the first ground — or had we advanced — or ^J 

had the retreat been conducted in a manner J 

different from what it was, this whole army, i 

and the interests of America, would have risked I 

being sacrificed. I ever had, and I hope ever ^ 

shall have, the greatest respect and veneration I 

\ for General Washington ; I think him endowed J 

J' with many great and good qualities ; but in this <; 

J instance I must pronounce, that he has been ^ 

"J • guilty of an act of ciuel injustice towards a ^ 



man who had certainly some pretensions to the 



CHARLES LEE. 193 

regard of every servant of his count r}^ ; and I J 

think, sir, I have a right to demand some i 

reparation for the injury committed ; and unless \ 

I can obtain it, I must, in justice to myself, S 

when the campaign is closed, which I believe I 

will close the war, retire from a service, at the ^ 

head of which is placed a man capable of J 

I offering such injuries ; — but at the same time, j 

s in justice to you, I must repeat that I, from my i 

^ soul, believe that it was not a motion of your i 

'< own breast, but instigated by some of those § 

s dirty earwigs, who will for ever insinuate J 

J themselves near persons in high office ; for I ^ 

^ am really assured that, when General Wash- J 



ington acts from himself, no man in his army J 

will have reason to complain of injustice and 



s indecorum. \> 

I I am, sir, and I hope ever shall have reason ^' 

\ to continue. Yours, &c. < 
? CHARLES LEE. 

^ His excellency General Washington. J 

'. Head-quarters, English-Town, June 28, 1778 \ 

< Sir — ^I received your letter, dated through { 

1; mistake the 1st of July, expressed, as I conceive, \ 

) in terms highly improper. I am not conscious < 

\ of having made use of any singular expressions ;; 



L. 



194 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

at the time of my meeting you, as you intimate, 
What I recollect to have said was dictated by 
duty, and warranted by the occasion. As 
soon as circumstances will admit, you shall 
have an opportunity, either of justifying your- 
self to the army, to Congress, to America, and 
to the world in general, or of convincing them 
that you are guilty of a breach of orders, and 
of misbehaviour before the enemy on the 28th 
instant, in not attacking them as you had been 
directed, and in making an unnecessary, dis- 
orderly, and shameful retreat. 

I am, sir, your most obedient servant, 

G. WASHINGTON. 

A court-martial, of which Lord Stirling was 
president, was ordered for his trial, and after a 
masterly defence by General Lee, found him 
guilty of all the charges, and sentenced him to 
be suspended from any command in the army 
for the term of twelve months. This sentence 
was shortl}'- afterward confirmed by Congress. 

When promulgated, it was like a mortal 
wound to the lofty, aspiring spirit of General 
Lee • pointing to his dog, he exclaimed — " Oh 
that I was that animal, that I might not call 
man my brother." He became outrageous, and 




CHARLES LEE. 195 i 



/ from that moment he was more open and \ 

i virulent in his attack on the character of the J 

\ commander-in-chief, and did not cease in his \ 

\ unwearied endeavours, both in his conversation ) 

\ and writings, to lessen his reputation in the \ 

C estimation of the. army and the j^ublic. He \ 

\ was an active abettor of General Conway in { 

\ his calumny .and abuse of General Washington, { 

\ and they were believed to be in concert in their ) 

? vile attempts to supersede his excellency in the \ 

^. supreme command. With the hope of effecting s 

'<", his nefarious purpose, he published a pamphlet j 

J replete with scurrilous imputations unfavourable s 

< to the military talents of the commander-in- > 

J; chief, but this, with his other malignant alle- > 

J gations, was consigned to contempt. ^ 

'» At leno-th Colonel Laurens, one of General s 

s Washington's aids, unable longer to suffer this ;! 

'', gross abuse of his illustrious friend, demanded J 

s of Lee that satisfaction which custom has |; 

J sanctioned as honourable. A rencounter ac- ^ 

\ cordingly ensued, and Lee received a wound > 

!> 'n his side. '^ 

I Lee now finding himself abandoned by his ^, 

j riends, degraded in the eye of the public, and ;; 



lespised by the wise and virtuous, retired to 
lis sequestered plantation in Virginia. In this 
13 






196 HEUOES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



Epot, secluded from all society, he lived in a 
sort of hovel, without glass windows or plaster- 
ing, or even a decent article of house furniture ; 



^ here he amused himself with his books and 



b dogs. On January 10th, 1780, Congress re 

S solved that Major-Gen eral Lee be informed 

I; that they have no further occasion for hiii 

5 services in the army of the United States. In 

j the autumn of 1782, wearied with his forlorn 

^ situation and broken spirit, he resorted to 

Philadelphia, and took lodgings in an ordinary 
tavern. He was soon seized with a disease of 
the lungs, and af ter a few days' confinement, 
he terminated his mortal course, a martyr to 
chagrin and disappointment, October 2d, 1782. 
The last words which he was heard to utter 
were, " stand by me, my brave grenadiers." 

General Lee was rather above the middle 
size, " plain in his person even to ugliness, and 
careless in his manners even to a degree of 
rudeness : his nose was so remarkably aquilin^, 
that it appeared as a real deformity. His voice 
was rough, his garb ordinary, his deportment 
morose. He was ambitious of fame, without 
the dignity to support it. In private life he 
sunk into the vulgarity of the clown." His 
remarkable partiality for dogs was such, that a 



CHARLES LEE. 197 



Tn the year 1776, when our army lay at 



> , ^ 



number of these animals constantly followed 

in his train, and the ladies complained that he 1^ 

allowed his canine adherents to follow him into j 

the parlour, and not unfrequently a favourite I 

one mio:ht be seen on a chair next his elbow at i 



table. i 



j White-Plains, Lee resided near the road which > 

s General Washington frequently passed, and he j 

I one day with his aids called and took dinner. J 

I After they had departed, Lee said to his aids, j 

j " You must look me out other quarters, or I 

I; shall have Washington and his puppies calling 

;> till they eat me up." The next day he ordered 

I his servants to write with chalk on the door, 

;; "No victuals cooked here to-day." The j! 

> company seeing the hint on the door, passed, < 

> with a smile at the oddity of the man. " The \ 
^ character of this person," says one who knew < 

him well, " is full of absurdities and qualities ^ 

< of a most extraordinary nature." S 

s While in Philadelphia, shortly before his ;! 

death, the following ludicrous circumstance I 

took place, which created no small diversion. < 

The late Judge Brackenridge, whose poign- <^ 

ancy of satire and eccentricity of character \ 

were nearly a match for that of th e general, ^ 



--\.-^-w-^_-\ 



fc98 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



> had dipped his pen in some gall, which greatly ^ 

> irritated Lee's feelino-s, insomuch that he chal- ^ 
'} lenged him to single combat, which Bracken- i 
\ ridge declined in a very eccentric repl}^ Lee \ 
f; having furnished himself with a horsewhip, \ 
\ determined to chastise him ignominiously on \ 
J* the very first opportunity. Observing Brack- j 
\ enridge going down Market street a few days \ 
ij after, he gave him chase, and Brackenridge \ 
5 took refuge in a public house, and barricadoed > 
< the door of the room he entered. A number ;; 
J of persons collected to see the result. Lee ^ 
\ damned him, and invited him to come out and J 
\ fight him like a man. Brackenridge replied, s 
-^ that he did not like to be shot at, and made \ 
J some other curious observations, which only ? 
s increased Lee's irritation, and the mirth of the 1; 
\ spectators. Lee, with the most bitter impre- \ 
\ cation, ordered him to come out, when he said ^ 
J he would horsewhip him. Brackenridge re- \ 
\ plied, that he had no occasion for a discipline ^ 
\ of that kind. The amusing scene lasted some { 
s time, until at length Lee, finding that he could ^ 



accomplish no other object than calling forth 
Brackenridge's wit for the amusement of the 
bystanders, retired. 

General Lee was master of a most genteel 



CHARLES LEE. 199 

address j but was rude in his manners, and 
excessively negligent in his appearance and 
behaviour. His appetite was so whimsical, 
that he was every where a most troublesome 
guest. Two or three dogs usually followed 
him wherever he went. As an officer, he was 
brave and able, and did much towards disci- 
plining the American army. With vigorous 
powers of mind and a brilliant fancy, he was 
a correct and elegant classical scholar, and he 
both wrote and spoke his native language with 
propriety, force, and beauty. His temper was 
severe ; the history of his life is little else 
than the history of disputes, quarrels, and 
duels, in every part of the world. He was 
vindictive, avaricious, immoral, impious, and 
profane. His principles, as would be expected 
from his character, were most abandoned, 
and he ridiculed every tenet of religion. 
Two virtues he possessed to an eminent de- 
gree, sincerity and veracity. It was notorious 
that General Lee was a man of unbounded 
personal ambition ; and, conscious of his 
European education, and pre-eminent military 
talents and prowess, he effected a superiority 
over General Washington, and constantly 
aimed at tha supreme command, little scrupu 



r 



200 HBROES OF THE REVOLUTION, 



^ lous as to the means employed to accomplisK 

^ his own advancement. 

\ The following is an extract from General 

^^ Lee's will. 

s " I desire most earnestly that I may not be 

'< buried in any church or church-yard, or with- 

i in a mile of any Presbyterian or Anabaptist 

!; meeting house ; for since I have resided 

> in this country, I have kept so much bad 

\ company while living, that i d'^ not choose to 

s continue it while dead." 



I 1 



L 



JOHN SULLIVAN, 

Major-General in the American Army. 

General Sullivan was a native of New 
Hampshire, where he resided before the revo- 
lution, and attained to a high degree of emi- 
nence in the profession of the law. He was 
a member of the first Congress, in 1774; but 



ordered to Canada, and, on the death of Gene- 
ral Thomas, the command of the army de- 
volved on him. The situation of our army in 
that quarter was inexpressibly distressing ; des- 
titute of clothing, dispirited by defeat and 
constant fatigue, and a large proportion of the 
troops sick with the small-pox. By his great 
exertions and judicious management, he meli- 

201 



J on the commencement of hostilities, preferring ^ 



a military commission, he relinquished the ;. 

I fairest prospects of fortune and fame, and ap j 

J peared among the most ardent patriots and i 

(• intrepid warriors. J 

;! " In 1775, he was appointed a brigadier j 

I general, and immediately joined the armj J 

< at Cambridge, and soon after obtained the com- { 

^ mand on Winter Hill. The next year he was 'J 



.J 



(, 502 HEROES CF THE REVOLUTION. 5 

J orated the condition of the army, and obtained J 

^ general applause. On his retiring from that < 

J command July 12th, 177G, the field-officers 

s thus addressed him : 'It is to vou, sir, the "f 

J public are indebted for the preservation of j 

{ their property in Canada. It is to you we J 

J owe our safety thus far. Your humanity will j 

? call forth the silent tear and the grateful ■; 

{ ejaculation of the sick. Your universal im- J 

^ partiality will force the applause of the wea« 



<; "In August, 1776, he was promoted to the 

j rank of major-general, and soon after was, 

J with Major-General Lord Stirling, captured by 

\ the British in the battle on Long Island. 

;> General Sullivan being paroled, was sent by 



s 
ried soldier.' > 



General Howe with a message to Congress, ^ 



< after which he returned to New York. In 

< September he was exchanged for Major Gene- ^ 

< ral Prescott. We next find him in command 
^ of the right division of our troops, in the 
i famous battle at Trenton, and he acquitted J 
j himself honourably on that ever memorable \ 

\ ^^^' . . \ 

\ "In August, 1777, without the authority of 

Congress, or the commander-in-chief, he plan- j 

ned and executed an expedition against the s 



JOHN SULLIVAN 



203 



i enemy on Staten Island. Though the enter- J 

;' prise was conducted with prudence and success, j 

J in part, it was said by some to have been less j 

5 brilliant than might have been expected under j 

\ his favourable circumstances ; and as that act < 

> was deemed a bold assumption of responsibili- > 

\ ty, and reports to his prejudice being in circu- \ 

^ lation, a court of inquiry was ordered to in- ^ 

( vestio-ate his conduct. The result was an J; 

< honourable acquittal; and Congress resolved, J; 

that the result, so honourable to General Sulli- i> 

van, is highly pleasing to Congress, and that $ 

the opinion of the court be published, in justi- j 

fication of that injured officer. ^ 

" In the battles of Brandy wine and German- jj 

town, in the autumn of 1777, General Sulli- \ 

van commanded a division, and in the latter jj 

conflict his two aids were killed, and his own ^ 

conduct was so conspicuously brave, that Gene- ^ 

ral Washington, in his letter to Congress, con- '^| 

eludes with encomiums on the gallantry of \^ 

General Sullivan, and the whole right wing of ^ 

the army, who acted immediately under the \ 

eye of his excel ency. s 

•'In August, 1778, General Sullivan, was '^ 

sole commander of an expedition to the Island J 
of Newport, in co-operation with the French 



204 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. J 

fleet under the Count D'Estaing. The Marquis < 

de la Fayette and General Greene volunteered '< 

their services on the occasion. The object of < 

the expedition was defeated, in consequence of <; 

the French fleet being driven off by a violent ? 

storm. By this unfortunate event, the enemy ;! 

were encouraged to engage our army in battle, s 

in which they suffered a repulse, and General j 

Sullivan finally effected a safe retreat to the ;; 

main. This retreat, so ably executed, without i 

confusion or the loss of baggage or stores, jj 

ncreased the military reputation of General I 

Sullivan, and redounds to his honour as a ^ 

skilful commander. \ 

" The bloody tragedy acted at Wyoming, in «i 

1778, had determined the commander-in-chief, § 

in 1779, to employ a large detachment from j; 
the continental army to penetrate into the 
heart of the Indian country, to chastise the 
hostile tribes and their white associates and ad- 
herents, for their cruel aggressions on the 

defenceless inhabitants. The command of this i 

expedition was committed to Major-General J 

Sullivan, with express orders to destroy their i 

settlements, to ruin their crops, and make such J 

thorough devastations as to render the country ^ 

entirely uninhabitable for the present, and thus \ 



JOHN SULLIVAN. 205 S 

to compel the savages to remove to a greater ^ 

distance from our frontiers. j 

" General Sullivan had under his command \ 

several brigadiers, and a well chosen army, to I 

which were attached a number of friendly s 

^ Indian warriors. With this force he penetra- J 

I' ted about ninety miles, through a horrid 

^ swampy wilderness and barren mountainous 

5 deserts, to Wyoming, on the Susquehanna 

I river, thence by water to Tioga, and possessed 



himself of numerous towns and villages of 
the savages. 



^ me Selvages. s 

< "During this hazardous expedition General \ 



'^ Sullivan and his army encountered the most 

> complicated obstacles, requiring the greatest ^' 
;J fortitude and perseverance to surmount. He J 
s explored an extensive tract of country, and ) 
\ strictly executed the severe, but necessary ^ 
s orders he had received. A considerable num- f, 
J ber of Indians were slain, some were captured, J 

> their habitations were burnt, and their planta- i 
J tions of corn and vegetables laid waste in the > 
I most effectual manner. ' Eighteen villages, a i 
j number of detached buildings, one hundred 
\ and sixty thousand bushels of corn, and those 
<; fruits and vegetables which conduce to the 
^ comfort and subsistence of man, were utterly 






206 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



^ destroyed. Five weeks were unremittingly i 

\ *»mployed in this work of devastation.' \ 

\ " On his return from the expedition, he and \ 

\ his army received the approbation of Congress. \ 

' It is remarked on this expedition, by the trans- \ 

\ lator of M. Chastelleux's travels, an English- J 

) man, then resident in the United States, that \ 

\ the instructions given by General Sullivan to \ 

\ his officers, the order of march he prescribed \ 

j' to his troops, and the discipline he had the J 

^ ability to maintain, would have done honour s 

\ , to the most experienced ancient or modern \ 

^ generals. \ 

\ "At the close of the campaign of 1779, ^ 

j' General Sullivan, in consequence of impaired \ 

J health, resigned his commission in the army. < 

s Congress, in accepting his resignation, passed \, 

J a resolve, thanking him for his past services. \ 

J His military talents and bold spirit of enter- J 

\ prise were universally acknowledged. He \ 

) was fond of display, and his personal appear- ^ 

j ance and dignified deportment commanded \ 

\ respect. After his resignation, he resumed J 

! his professional pursuits at the bar, and was ( 

; much distinguished as a statesman, politician, j 

; and patriot. He acquired very considerable j 

\ proficiency in general literature, and an exten ^ 



J 




JOHN SULLIVAN. 201 

I 8ive knowledge of men and the world. He 

\ received from Harvard University a degree of 

'j master of arts, and from the University of ( 

s Dartmouth a degree of doctor of laws. He \ 

'; was one of the convention who formed the .; 

J state constitution for New Hampshire, was j 

• chosen into the first council, and was after- J 

I wards elected chief magistrate in that state, ^ 

\ and held the office for three years. In Sep- s 

<; tember, 1789, he was appointed judge of the J 

^ district court for the district of New Hamp- I; 

\ shire, and continued in the office till his death, !; 

J lU 1795." i 

I 



JOSEPH WARREN, \ 

Major -General in the American Army. ^ 

"Joseph Warren was born in Roxburj'^ s 

near Boston, in the year 1741. His father ) 

was a respectable farmer in that place, who J 

had held several municipal offices, to the J 

acceptance of his fellow citizens. Joseph, J 

^ with several of his brothers, was instructed in \ 

J the elementary branches of knowledge, at the j 

\ public grammar-school of the town, which \ 

\ was distinguished for its successive instructers f 

\ of superior attainments. In 1755, he entered ) 

college, where he sustained the character of a ] 

youth of talents, fine manners, and of a J 

generous independent deportment, united to \ 

great personal courage and perseverance. An J 

\ anecdote will illustrate his fearlessness and de- J 

> termination at that age, when character can j 

i hardly be said to be formed. Several students ij 

\ of Warren's class shut themselves in a room s 

\ to arrange some college affairs, in a way which \ 

they knew was contrary to his wishes, and J 

barred the door so effectually, that he could \ 

not without great ^ iolence force it : but he did :• 
208 ' j 



JOSEPH WARREN. 20^ ) 

(J 

not give over the attempt of getting among \ 

i them ; for perceiving that the window of the J 

room in which they were assembled was open, j 

and near a spout which extended from the \ 

i roof of the building to the ground, he went to J 

1; the top of the house, slid down to the eaves, \ 

J seized the spout, and when he had descended as \ 

J far as the window, threw himself into the < 

^ chamber among them. At that instant the I; 

I spout, which was decayed and weak, gave > 

\ way and fell to the ground. He looked at it \ 

? without emotion, said that it had served his s 

^ purpose, and began to take his part in the ;! 

> business. A spectator of this feat and narrow s 

> escape, related this fact to me in the college- ^ 
^ yard, nearly half a century afterward ; and J- 
\ the impression it made on his mind was so ^ 
\ strong, that he seemed to feel the same emo- '< 
,; tion as though it had happened but an hour < 
^ before. - > 

"On leaving college, in 1759, Warren > 

turned his attention to the study of medicine, 1; 

under the direction of Doctor Lloyd, an emi- > 

(, nent physician of that day, whose valuable I 

5 life has been protracted almost to the present < 
I time. Warren was distinguished very soon 
j after he commenced practice ; for when, in 



U 



5 210 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. i 

\ 1764, the small-pox spread in Boston, he was ;; 

\ among the most successful in his method of j 

\ treatino; that disease, which was then consider- \ 

•j ed the most dreadful scourge of the human \ 

\ race ; and the violence of which had baffled ) 

5 the efforts of the learned faculty of medicine s 

\ from the time of its jEirst appearance. From ) 

J this moment he stood high among his brethren, \ 

5 and was the favourite of the people ; and what ■" 

\ he gained in their good-will he never lost. 

\ His personal appearance, his address, his cour- 

^ tesy, and his humanity, won the way to the 

j) hearts of all ; and his knowledge and superi- 

^ ority of talents secured the conquest. A 

\ bright and lasting fame in his profession, with 

\ the attendant consequences, wealth and influ- 

j ence, were within his reach, and near at hand : 

< but the calls of a distracted country were 

\ paramount to every consideration of his own 

\ interests, and he entered the vortex of politics, 

J never to return to the peaceful course of \ 

professional labour. \ 

" The change in public opinion had been \ 

gradually preparing the minds of most men j 

for a revolution. This was not openly avow- '; 

^d : amelioration of treatment for the present, \ 

and assurances of kmdness in future, were ail \ 



~J 



JOSEPH WARREN. 211 

that the colonies asked from Great Britain— duI 
ihese they did not receive. The mother country 
mistook the spirit of her children, and used 
threats when kindness would have been the 
best policy. When Britain declared her right 
to direct, govern, and tax us in any form, and 
at all times, the colonies reasoned, remonstra- 
ted, and entreated for a while ; and when 
these means did not answer, they defied and 
resisted. The political writers of the province 
had been active and busy, but they were gene- 
rally screened by fictitious names, or sent their 
productions anonymously into the world ; but 
the time had arrived, when speakers of nerve 
and boldness were wanted to raise their voices 
against oppression in every shape. Warren 
possessed first rate qualities for an orator, and 
had early declared in the strongest terms his 
political sentiments, which vv'ere somewhat in 
advance of public opinion ; for he held as 
tyranny all taxation which could be imposed 
by the British parliament upon the colonies. 
In times of danger, the people are sagacious, 
and cling to those who best can serve them ; 
and every eye was on him in every emergency ; 
for he had not only the firmness and decision 
they wished for in a leader, but was prudent 
14 



i 212 



HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION 



\ and wary in all his plans. His first object was ;; 

^ to enlighten the people ; and then he felt sure f 

j of engaging their feelings in the general cause. \ 

i He knew, when once they began, it would be i 

I impossible to tread back — independence only j 

I would satisfy the country. With an intention j 

\ of directing public sentiment, without appear- i 

\ ing to be too active, he met frequently with a \ 

< considerable number of substantial mechanics, J 

j and others in the middling classes of society, \ 

i who were busy in politics. This crisis re- s 

] quired such a man as they found him to be ; j 

\ one who could discern the siojns of the times, s' 

J s 

J and mould the ductile materials to his will, \ 

J and at the same time seem only to follow ? 

\ in the path of others. His letter to Barnard, < 

/ which attracted the notice of government, had s 

\ been written several years before, in 1768 j ^ 

j but in some form or other he was constantly <J 

\ enlightening the people by his pen : but it is J 

\ now difficult, and of no great importance, !> 

> to trace him in the papers of that period. ^ 

i The public was not then always right in ;! 

\ designating the authors of political essays. In I 

j the different situations in which he was called \ 

\ to act, he assumed as many characters as fable ^ 

( has ever given to the tutelar god of his pro- j 



;i JOSEPH WARREN. 213 j 

;; fession, and like him, in every one of them, ? 

i he retained :he wisdom to guide and the power •) 

I to charm. At one time he mio;ht be found re- ( 

!> straining the impetuosity, and bridling the fury j 

;j of those hot-headed politicians who felt more i 

^ than they reasoned, and dared to do more than J 

J became men. Such was his versatility, that \ 

j he turned from these lectures of caution > 

J and prudence, to asserting and defending the ^ 

'J most bold and undisguised principles of liberty, J 

^ and defying, in their very teeth, the agents of '' 

J the crown. Twice he was elected to deliver <; 

i the oration on the 5th of March, in commem- [■ 

> oration of the massacre ; and his orations are J 
^ among the most distinguished produced by that 
< splendid list of speakers who addressed their 
,s fellow citizens on this subject, so interesting to 
j; them all. In these productions generally, the 
s' immediate causes of this event were over- 

> looked, and the remote ones alone were \ 
i discussed. Here they were on safe ground; < 
;, for tyranny, in its incipient stages, has no I; 
j excuses from opposition ; but in its march, it > 
I generally finds some plausible arguments for its s 
\ proceedings, drawn from the very resistance it J 
\ naturally produces. These occasions gave the < 
\ orators a fine field for remark, and a fair oppor- ;; 




HEROES OF THE PcEVOLUTION. 



tunity for effect. The great orators of antiqui- j 

<j t}'", in their speeches, attempted only to rouse ^ 

j the people to retain what they possessed. s 

^ Invective, entreaty, and pride, had their effect s 

s in assisting those mighty masters to influenco >"; 

s' the people. They were ashamed to lose what <; 

<; their fathers left them, won by their blood, ^^ 

< and so long preserved by their wisdom, their ^ 
> virtues, and their courage. Our statesmen had I 
\ a harder task to perform ; for they were com- s 
^ pelled to call on the people to gain what J 
J they had never enjoyed — an independent rank < 

< and standing among the nations of the world. '^ 
s " His next oration was delivered March 6th, 5 
J 1775. It was at his own solicitation that he ^ 
J was appointed to this duty a second time. The 
s fact is illustrative of his character, and worthy 
5 of remembrance. Some British officers of the 

< army then in Boston, had publicly declared 
J that it should be at the price of the life of 
j any man to speak of the event of March 5th, 
j 1770, on that anniversary. Warren's soul took 
J fire at such a threat, so openly made, and he 

< wished for the honour of braving it. This was 
( readily granted : for at such a time a man 
I- would probably find but few rivals. Many 
J who would spurn the thought of personal fear 



\ JOSEPH WAHREN. 215 < 

J . i 

{ might be apprehensive that they would be so > 

> far disconcerted as to forget their discourse. > 
s It is easier to fight bravely, than to think clearly I 
J or correctly in danger. Passion sometimes s 
'^ nerves the arm to fight, but disturbs the <; 

> regular current of thought. The day came, j 
} and the weather was remarkably fine. The i 
^ Old South Meeting House was crowded at an \ 
\ early hour. The Brhish officers occupied the ^ 
^ aisles, the flight of steps to the pulpit, and ^ 
\ several of them were within it. It was not <? 
>, precisely known whether this was accident or J; 
^ design. The orator, with the assistance of his ,; 
j friends, made his entrance at the pulpit win- > 
^ dow by a ladder. The officers seeing his I 
<; coolness and intrepedity, made way for him to j 
J advance and address the audience. An awful ) 
? stillness preceded his exordium. Each man i 
J felt the palpitations of his own heart, and saw J 
J, the pale but determined face of his neighbour. > 
< The speaker began his oration in a firm tone ;j 
;; of voice, and proceeded with great energy I 
i and pathos. Warren and his friends were 5 
\ prepared to chastise contumely, prevent dis- j 
I" grace, and avenge an attempt at assassination. \ 
^ " The scene was sublime ; a patriot, in j 
I whom the flush of youth and the grace and \ 



^ ] 



^ 216 HEUOES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

f 

\ dignity of manhood were combined, stooa 

s armed in the sanctuary of God, to animate and 

\ encourage the sous of liberty, and to hurl de- 

\ fiance at their oppressors. The orator com- 

^' menced with the early history of the country, 



poured the fiercest torrent of his invective 
when Cataline was at a distance, and his 
dao-o-er no lono-er to be feared : but Warren's 
speech was made to proud oppressors, resting 
on their arms, whose errand it was to overawe, 
and whose business it was to fight. 

" If the deed of Brutus deserved to be com- 

[ memorated by history, poetry, painting, and 

sculpture, should not this instance of patriotism 



\ described the tenure by which we held our j, 



^ liberties and property — the affection we had < 

i, constantly shown the parent country, and ^ 

•; boldly told them how, and by whom these \ 

\ blessings of life had been violated. There {> 

\ was in this appeal to Britain — in this descrip- \, 

\ of suffering, agony, and horror, a calm and < 

^ high-souled defiance which must have chilled <' 

;; the blood of every sensible foe. Such another J 

\ hour has seldom happened in the history of \ 

\ man, and is not surpassed in the records of na- \ 

^' tions. The thunders of Demosthenes rolled at 

;-' a distance from Philip and his host — and Tully | 

s 
s 



S JOSEPH WARREN. 217 j 

\ 

and bravery be held in lasting remembrance ' \ 

\ If he • \ 

( * That struck the foremost man of all this world.' \ 

i 

j was hailed as the first of freeman, what \ 

S honours are not due to him, who undismayed { 

j bearded the British lion, to show the world \ 

I what his countrymen dared to do in the cause s 



j of liberty ? If the statue of Brutus was placed j 

J among those of the gods who were the pre- \ 

I servers of Roman freedom, should not that of ! 

< Warren fill a lofty niche in the temple reared J 

^ to perpetuate the remembrance of our birth as j 



a nation 1 

"If independence was not at first openly 

I avowed by our leading men at that time, the 

'; hope of attaining it was fondly cherished, and 

I the exertions of the patriots pointed to this 

^ end. The wise knew that the storm which the 

^ political Prosperos were raising, would pass \ 

^ away in blood. With these impressions on his 

s mind, Warren for several years was preparing ( 

\ himself by study and observation, to take 

s a conspicuous rank in the military arrange- 

I ments which he knew must ensue. 

>; " On the 18th of April, 1775, by his agents 

\ in Boston, he discovered the design of the 

s 

\ 

{ 

i 



218 



HEROES OF THE HEVOLUTION. 



British commander to sieze or destroy our few ) 

ijtores at Concord. He instantly despatched < 

several confidential messengers to Lexington. \ 
The ]ate venerable patriot, Paul Revere, was 
one of them. This gentleman has given a 
very interesting account of the difficulties he 
encountered in the discharge of this duty. 
The alarm was given, and the militia, burning 
with resentment, were, at day-break on the 

19th, on the road to repel insult and aggression. $ 

The drama was opened about sunrise, within a i 

few yards of the house of God, in Lexington, \ 

Warren hastened to the field of action, in the ) 

^ full ardour of his soul, and shared the dangers > 

? of the day. While pressing on the enemy, a ;J 

> musket-ball took off a lock of his hair close to < 

^f his ear. The lock was rolled and pinned, J 

i after the fashion of that day, and considerable \ 



force must have been necessary to have cut it \ 



away. The people were delighted with his \ 

cool, collected bravery, and already considered '> 

him as a leader, whose gallantry they were to s 

admire, and in whose talents they were to \ 

confide. On the 14th of June, 1775, the > 

Provincial Congress of Massachusetts made ? 

him a major-general of their forces ; but pre- j 

vious to the date of his commission, he had ] 



JOSEPH WARREN. 219 

been unceasing in his exertions to maintain 



S -.. 

> order and enforce discipline among the troops, s 
\ which had hastily assembled at Cambridge^ 

\ after the battle of Lexington. He mingled in $ 

;; the ranks, and by every method and argument J 

< strove to inspire them with confidence, and ^^ 

j succeeded in a most wonderful manner in ;. 

! imparting to them a portion of the flame J 

5 which glowed in his own breast. At such ^ 

> a crisis genius receives its birth-right — the j 
\ homage of inferior minds, who, for self-pre- J 
I servation, are willing to be directed. Pre- ^ 
'J vious to receiving the appointment of major- j 
\ general, he had been requested to take the ^ 
^ office of physician-general to the army, but he < 
\ chose to be where wounds were to be made, J 
I; rather than where they were to be healed. Yet ?, 
\ he lent his aid and advice to the medical j 
I department of the army, and was of great ser- > 
I vice to them in their organization and arrange- I 
I ments. I 

«« He was at this time president of the Pro- ] 

vincial Congress, having been elected, the pre- j 

ceding year, a member from the town of < 

Boston. In this body he discovered his extra- J 

ordinary powers of mind, and his peculiar f 
fitness for responsible offices at such a juncture. 



220 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



^ Cautious in proposing measures, he was assidu- / 

^ ous in pursuing what he thought, after mature j 

I deliberation, to be right, and never counted the \ 

5 probable cost of a measure, when he had \ 

s decided that it was necessary to be taken. j 

;! When this Congress, which was sitting at i 

i Watertown, adjourned for the day, he mounted ? 

\ his horse and hastened to the camp. Every J 

? day * he bought golden opinions of all sorts of J 

5 men ;' and when the troops were called to act s 

I on Breed's Hill, he had so often been among J 

I them, that his person was known to most <! 

I of the soldiers. ^ 

^ " Several respectable historians have fallen j 

{ into some errors in describing the battle in j 

!; which he fell, by giving the command of the j 

I troops on that day to Warren, when he was ^ 

only a volunteer in the fight. He did not ^ 

arrive on the battle-ground until the enemy J 

had commenced their movements for the j 

attack. As soon as he made his appearance on ? 

the field, the veteran commander of the day, J 

Colonel Prescott, desired to act under his s 

directions ; but Warren declined taking any < 

other part than that oV a volunteer, and added, < 
that he came to learn the art of war from an 
experienced soldier, whose orders he should be 



JOSEPH WARREN. 221 



J happy to obey. In the battle he was armed j 

J with a musket, and stood m the ranks, now and j 

J then changing his place, to encourage his \ 

\ fellow-soldiers by words and by example. ? 

\ He undoubtedly, from the state of hostilities, > 

\ expected soon to act in his high military I 

^^ capacity, and it was indispensable, according ^ 

? *o his views, that he should share the dangers < 

I of the field as a common soldier with his i 

I fellow-citizens, that his reputation for bravery \ 

I might be put beyond the possibility of suspi- ? 

< cion. The wisdom of such a course would \ 
\ never have been doubted, if he had returned ^ 
J in safety from the fight. In such a struggle \ 
^ for independence, the ordinary rules of pru- j 
I dence and caution could not govern those who ^ 
;' were building up their names for future use- ^ 

< fulness by present exertion. Some maxims ^ 
5 drawn from the republican writers of antiqui- J 
j ty, were worn as their mottos. Some precepts ') 
''., descriptive of the charms of liberty, were i 
^ ever on their tongues ; and some classical I 
\ model of Greek or Eoman patriotism was i 
^ constantly in their minds. Instances of great S 
J men mixing in the rank of common soldiers, r*- 
■! were to be found in ancient times, when men 3 
^ fought for their altars and their homes. The s 



I 222 



HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



I cases were parallel, and the examples were 

j imposing. When the battle was decided, and \ 

j our people fled, Warren was one of the last { 

> who left the breastwork, and was slain within > 

s a few yards of it, as he was slowly retiring. s 

;; He probably felt mortified at the event of the \ 

day ; but had he known how dearly the victory ;; 

was purchased, and how little honour was J 

gained by those who won it, his heart would > 

have been at rest. Like the band of Leoni- > 

I das, the vanquished have received, by the ^ 

I jud^ent of nations, from which there is no ^ 

\ appeal, the imperishable laurels of victors. ^ 

i His death brought a sickness to the heart ^ 

\ of the community, and the people mourned f; 

^ his fall, not with the convulsive agony of a j 

I betrothed virgin over the bleeding corpse ;. 

s of her lover — but with the pride of the Spar- J 

J tan mother, who, in the intensity of hei: g^ief, \ 

i smiled to see that the wounds whence life had ^ 

J llown, were on the breast of her son — and j 

\ was satisfied that he had died in defence of his \ 

J country. The worth of the victim, and the J 

f horror of the sacrifice, gave a higher value to \ 

our liberties, and produced a more fixed determi- ^ 

nation to preserve them. J 

" The battle of Bunker's Hill has often been i 



-J 



< JOSEPH WARREN. 223 

J Hescribed, and of late its minutest details given 

^ to the public ; but never was the military, 

'? moral, and political character of that great 

\ event more forcibly drawn, than in the follow- 

J ing extract from the North American Review, \ 

i for July, 1818 : 1; 

< ' The incidents and the result of the battle i 



j itself, were most important, and indeed most I; 

^ wonderful. As a mere battle, few surpass S 

;> it in whatever engages and interests the atten- ;J 

s tion. It was fought on a conspicuous emi- < 

J nence, in the immediate neisrhbourhood of a ^ 

J populous city ; and consequently in the view < 

\ of thousands of spectators. The attacking J 

J" army moved over a sheet of water to the / 

i assault. The operations and movements werf ;> 

^ of course all visible and all distinct. Those I 

\ who looked on from the houses and heights of J; 

i Boston had a fuller view of every important < 

J operation and event, than can ordinarily be had p 

? of any battle or that can possibly be had of ^ 

j such as are fought on a more extended ground, [> 

i or by detachments of troops acting in different ^ 

<; places, and at different times, and in some i 

< measure independently of each other. When ^ 

? the British columns were advancing to the ^ 

/ attack, the flames of Charlestown, (fired, as is 



224 



HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



generally supposed, by a shell,) began to ascend. 
The spectators, far outnumbering both armies, 
thronged and crowded on every height and 
every point which afforded a view of the 
scene, themselves constituting a very important 
part of it. 

* The troops of the two armies seemed like 
so many combatants in an amphitheatre. The 
manner in which they should acquit them- 
selves was to be judged of, not as in other cases 
of military engagements, by reports and future 
history, but by a vast and anxious assembly 
already on the spot, and waiting with unspeak- 
able concern and emotion the progress of 
the day. 

^ In other battles, the recollection of wives 
and children has been used as an excitement to 
animate the warrior's breast, and nerve his 
arm. Here was not a mere recollection, but 
an actual presence of them and other dear con- 
nexions, hanging on the skirts of the battle, 
anxious and agitated, feeling almost as if 
wounded themselves by every blow of the 
enemy, and putting forth, as it were, their own 
strength, and all the energy of their own 
throbbing bosoms, into every gallant effort of 
their warring; friends. 



JOSEPH WARREN. 225 ? 

*But there was a more comprehensive, and ) 

vastly more important view of that clay's con < 

test, than has been mentioned ; a view, indeed, j 

which ordinary eyes, bent intently on what I 

was immediately before them, did not embrace, \ 

but which was perceived in its full extent and j 

expansion by minds of a higher order. Those J 

^ men who were at the head of the colonial ^' 

I councils, who had been engaged for years ^ 

^ in the previous stages of the quarrel with ^ 

> England, and who had been accustomed to look ^ 

;; forward to the future, were well apprised of J 

I the magnitude of the events likely to hang on j 

< the business of that day. They saw in it not ^ 
;; only a battle, but the beginning of a civil war^ \ 
i, of unmeasured extent and uncertain issue. < 
^ All America, and all England, were likely to ? 
} be deeply concerned in the consequences. j 
s The individuals themselves, who knew full j 
\ well what agency they had had in bringing s 

< aiFairs to this crisis, had need of all their < 
\ courage : not that disregard of personal safety, I 
! in which the vulgar suppose true courage to J 
! consist, but that high and fixed moral senti- ;! 
^ ment, that steady and decided purpose, which I 
J enables men to pursue a distant end with a full j 



view of the difficulties and dangers before 



226 



HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



them, and with a conviction that, before they J 

arrive at the proposed end, should they ever J 

reach it, they must pass through evil report as \ 

well as good report, and be liabie to obloquy j 

as well as to defeat. < 

' Spirits that fear nothmg else, fear disgrace ; j 

and this danger is necessarily encountered s 

^ by those who engage in civil war. Unsuccess- \ 

] ful resistance is not only ruin to its authors, J 

;! , but is esteemed, and necessarily so, by the laws ;j 

<; of all countries, treasonable. This is the case, s 

? at least till resistance becomes so general and •, 



? formidable as to assume the form of resrular s 

<{ '? 

;> war. But who can tell, when resistance com- > 

I mences, whether it will attain even to that j 

< degree of success ? Some of those persons '^ 
J who signed the Declaration of Independence, I 
d in 1777, described themselves as signing it, < 
\ ' as with halters about their necks.' If there J 
\ were grounds for this remark in 1776, when ^, 
|I the cause had become so much more general, ^ 

< how much greater was the hazard when the bat- > 
J tie of Bunker-Hill was fought ! ^ 
? ' These considerations constituted, to en- \ 
I larged and liberal minds, the moral sublimity j 
J of the occasion ; while, to the outward senses, ^ 

the movement of armies, the roar of artillery, ^ 



..J 



r 



J JOSEPH WARREN. 227 j 



I tlie brilliancy of the reflection of a summer's J 

^ sun from the burnished armour of the British !- 

i; columns, and the flames of a burning town, \ 

\ made up a scene of extraordinary grandeur.' } 

< " This eminence has become sacred ground. s 

<' ... ) 

^ It contains in its bosom the ashes of the brave } 

5 who died fighting to defend their altars and \ 

J; their homes. Strangers from all countries ( 

^ visit this spot, for it is associated in their J 

/ memories with Marathon and Plataa, and all L 

;! the mighty struggles of determined freemen. < 

'^. Our citizens love to wander over this field — ;! 

J they agreed to awake recollections, and the 

^ youthful to excite heroic emotions. The I; 

j; battle-ground is now all plainly to be seen — ,^ 

^ the spirit of modern improvement, which ^ 



'^^ would stop the streams of Helicon to turn \> 

s a mill, and caused to be felled the trees of ■; 

■; Paradise to make a rafter, has yet spared this <■' 

s hallowed heii>;ht. 

\ " If ' the days of chivalry be gone for ever,' '!' 

^ and the hiorh and enthusiastic feelings of gen- ^ 

J D DOS 

;> erosity and magnanimity be not so widely ;| 

I diffused as in more heroic ages, yet it cannot be \ 

\ denied but that there have been, and still are, ;; 

J mdividuals whose bosoms are warmed with a i 

j spirit as glowing and ethereal as ever swelled \ 

15 \ 



228 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



I; the heart of ' mailed knight,' who, in the 

s' ecstacies of love, religion, and martial glory> 

^ joined the war-cry on the plains of Palestine, 

{ or proved his steel on the infidel foe. The 

J history of every revolution is interspersed 

J with brilliant episodes of individual prowess. 

i The pages of our own history, when fully 

> written out, will sparkle profusely with these 

j gems of romantic valour. 

^ "The calmness and indifference of the 

veteran * in clouds of dust, and seas of blood,' 
can only be acquired by long acquaintance 
with the trade of death ; but the heights of 
Charlestown will bear eternal testimony how 
suddenly, in the cause of freedom, the peace- 
ful citizen can become the invincible warrior 
— stung by oppression, he springs forward 
from his tranquil pursuits, undaunted by oppo- 
sition, and undismayed by danger, to fight even 
to death for the defence of his rights. Pa- 
rents, wives, children, and country, all the 
hallowed properties of existence, ^re to him 
the talisman that takes fear from his heart, and 
nerves his arm to victory. 

"In the requiem over those who have 
fallen in the cause of their country, which 



JOSEPH WARREN. 225 < 



' Time with his own eternal lips shall sing,' 

the praises of Warre>i shall be distinctly 
heard. The blood of those patriots who have 
fallen in the defence of republic^ has often 
* cried from the ground' against the ingratitude 
of the country for which it was shed. No 
monument was reared to their fame ; no 



JOSEPH WARREN, 



He devoted his Life to the 



s fell an early Victim in the 



s record of their virtues written ; no fostering > 



< hand extended to their offspring — but they and J 
J their deeds were neglected and forgotten. I 
'•' Toward Warren there was no ingratitude — j 
r; our country is free from this stain. Congress ^ 
[; were the guardians of his honour, and remem- j 
'' bered that his children were unprotected 

'^ orphans. Within a year after his death Con- { 

J gress passed the following resolutions : I 

s " That a monument be erected to the memory s 

<> of General Warren, in the town of Boston, ) 

I with the following inscription : ? 

< IN HONOUR OF > 



s Major-General, of Massachusetts-Bay. > 



^ Liberties of his Country, <", 

^ and, in bravely defending them, > 



230 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 
BATTLE OF BUNKER-HILL, 

June 17, 1775. 

The Congress ol the United States, 

as an acknowledgment of his 

Services and distinguished 

Merit, have erected this 

Monument to his 

memory. 



J " It was resolved, likewise, ' that the eldest > 

^ son of General Warren should be educated, s 

J from that time, at the expense of the United I 

< States.' On the 1st of July, 1780, Congress, jj 
s recognising these former resolutions, further s 
■; resolved, * That it should be recommended to > 
Jj the executive of Massachusetts-Bay to make > 
5 provision for the maintenance and education ^ 
J of his three younger children. And that j." 

< Congress would defray the expense to the < 
J amount of the half-pay of a major-general, to '< 
I commence at the time of his death, and con- J 
I tinue till the youngest of the children should { 
J De of age.' The part of the resolutions re- ;; 
'^ lating to the education of the children, was s 
I carried into effect accordingly. The monu- < 

< ment is not yet erected, but it is not too late.'-' 

I 

I i 

I J 

... i 



i JOHN LAURENS, 

r - Colonel in the American Army, 



ff< 



Son of Henry Laurens, was born m j.' 

Charleston, in 1755. In youth he discovered J 

that energy of character which distinguished \ 

him through life. When a lad, though labour \ 

ing under a fever, on the cry of fire, he leapeu ^ 

from his bed, hastened to the scene of danger, ;! 

and was in a few minutes on the top of the expo- \ 

J sed houses, risking his life to arrest the progress J 

K of the flames. This is the more worthy of \ 

\ notice, for precisely in the same way, and ^ 

J under a similar, but higher impulse of ardent ;J 

<; patriotism, he lost his life in the year 1782. \ 

) " At the age of sixteen he was taken to < 

\ Europe by his father, and there put under the J 

s best means of instruction in Geneva, and > 

\ afterward in London. J 



\ " He was entered a student of law at the 

i temple in 1774, and was daily improving in \ 

\ legal knowledge till the disputes between i 

j Grt'eat Britain and her colonies arrested his \ 

J attention. He soon found that the claims ? 

[ J the mother country struck at the root of \ 

\ 231 ;: 



;5 232 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

^ liberty in the colonies, and that she perse- 

^ veringly resolved to enforce these claims at 

^ every hazard. Fain would he have come out 

) to join his countrymen in arms at the com- 

•5 mencement of the contest ; but the peremptory 

J order of his father enjoined his continuance in 

^ England, to prosecute his studies and finish his 

J education. As a dutiful son, he obeyed these 

J orders ; but as a patriot burning with desire to 

j defend his country, he dismissed Coke, Little- 

i ton, and all the tribe of jurists, and substituted 

in their place Vauban, Folard, and other 
writers on war. He also availed himself of 
the excellent opportunities which London 
affords of acquiring practical knowledge of 
the manual exercise, of tactics, and the me- 
chanism of war. Thus instructed, as soon as 
he was a freeman of legal age, he quitted 
England for France, and by a circuitous 
voyage in neutral vessels, and at a considerable 
risk, made his way good, in the year 1777, to 
Charleston. 

" Independence had been declared — the 
American army was raised, officered, and in 
the field. He who, by his attainments in 
general science, and particularly in the military 
art, deserved high rank, had no ordinary door 



JOHN LAURENS. 233 i 



the command of some light troops. The 



s left open to serve his country, but by entering I 

i in the lowest grade of an army abounding 

' with officers. General Washington, ever i 

\ attentive to merit, instantly took him into j 

j his family as a supernumerary aid-de-camp. i 

\ Shortly after this appointment, he had an ] 

^ opportunity of indulging his military ardour. j 

S He fought and was wounded in the battle of ^ 

J German town, October 4th, 1777. He con- s 

\ tinned in General Washington's family, in the \ 

i middle states, till the British had retreated from j 

\ Philadelphia to New York, and was engaged f> 

I in the battle of Monmouth, June 28, 1778. < 

'!' " After this, the war being transferred more s 

c' northwardly, he was indulged in attaching J 

Ji himself to the army on Rhode Island, where \ 

J the most active operations were expected soon J 

< to take place. There he was entrusted with j 



S Lllc liUiiJiUdiiu. ui oijinc; iigj.it LJ uu Uis. j. lie j 



\ bravery and good conduct which he displayed ;! 

;^ on this occasion was honoured by Congress. j 

\ "On the 5th of November, 1778, they I 

i resolved, ' that John Laurens, Esq. aid-de-camp J 

< to General Washington, be presented with ^ 

> a continental commission of lieutenent-colo- j 

> nel, in testimony of the sense which Congress 
J entertain of his patriotic and spirited servicei 



234' HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



read in Congress, expressing ' his gratitude for 
the unexpected honour which Congress was 
pleased to confer on him by the resolution 
passed the day before ; and the high satisfac- 
tion it would have afforded him, could he have 
accepted it without injuring the rights of the 



as a volunteer in the American army ; and of \ 

his brave conduct in several actions, particu- j 

larly in that of Rhode Island, on the 29th of j 

August last ; and that General Washington be ) 

directed, whenever an opportunity shall offer, s 

to srive Lieutenant-Colonel Laurens command J 

agreeable to his rank.' On the next day, a { 

letter from Lieutenant-Colonel Laurens was { 

I 

s 
s 



I officers in the line of the army, and doing an ^ 

J evident injustice to his colleagues in the family f; 

;; of the commander-in-chief — that having been [> 

I a spectator of the convulsions occasioned in j_ 

> the army by disputes of rank, he held the ^ 

^ tranquillity of it too dear to be instrumental in J 

*I disturbing; it, and therefore entreated Consfress ^. 

;; to suppress the resolve of yesterday, ordering J 

i him a commission of lieutenant-colonel, and ''» 

J to accept his sincere thanks for the intended J 

\ • honour.' In this relinquishment there was a f, 

victory gained by patriotism over self-love. i 

Lieutenant-Colonel Laurens loved military j 



JOHN LAURENS. 235 



!; ^.me and rank ; but he loved his country more, J 

!; and sacrificed the former to preserve the peace j 

\> and promote the interest of the latter. \ 

^f " In the next year the British directed their j 

\ military operations chiefly against the most j 

> southern states. Lieutenant-Colonel John > 

\ Laurens M^as induced by double motives to 

J repair to Carolina. The post of danger was 

J always the object of his preference. His 

^ native state was become the theatre of war. 

s To its aid he repaired, and in May, 1779, with 

', a party of light troops, had a skirmish with 

\ the British at Tulifinny. In endeavouring to 

) obstruct their progress towards Charleston, he 

\ received a wound. This was no sooner cured 

) than he rejoined the army, and was engaged in 

\ the unsuccessful attack on Savannah, on the 

< 9th of October of the same year. To prepare 

j for the defence of Charleston, the reduction 

j of which was known to be contemplated by 

I the British, was the next object of attention 

J amono; the Americans. To this Colonel Lau- 

j rens devoted all the energies of his active 

j mind. 



" In the progress of the siege, which com- 
menced in 1780, the success of defensive 
operations became doubtful. Councils of war 



\ 236 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION I; 

? were frequent — several of the citizens were ;> 

? known to wish for a surrender, as a termina- s 

5 tion of their toils and dangers. In these < 

J councils, and on proper occasions. Colonel < 

;; Laurens advocated the abandonment of the I 

i front lines, and to retire to new ones to be / 

] erected within the old ones, and to risk an > 

> assault. When these spirited measures were ^ 



opposed on the suggestion that the inhabitants 
preferred a capitulation, he declared that he 
would direct his sword to the heart of the first 
citizen who would urge a capitulation against 



? the opinion of the commander-in-chief. J. 

j *' When his superior officers, convinced of \ 

I the inefficacy of further resistance, were dis- \ 

\ posed to surrender on terms of capitulation, j 

\ he yielded to the neccessity of the case, and / 

J became a prisoner of war. This reverse of ^ 

j fortune opened a new door for serving his ! 

j country in a higher line than he ever yet had s 

S done. He was soon exchanged, and reinstated ] 

J in a capacity for acting. In expediting his j 

s exchano-e, Congrress had the ulterior view of I; 

s ... . 5 

j sending him a special minister to Paris, that he ,< 

? ' mio^ht ursre the necessity of a vio-orous co- ) 

) operation on the part of France with the j 

> United States aorainst Great Britain. When i 



JOHN LAURENS. 237 



this was proposed to Colonel Laurens, he 
r, recommended and urged that Colonel Alexan- 

^ der Hamilton should be employed in preference 

> to himself. Cono;ress adhered to their first 
J. choice. 

< " Colonel Laurens sailed for France in the 

•; latter end of 1780, and there, in conjunction 

t; with Dr. Franklin, and Count de Vergennes, 

and Marquis de Castries, arranged the plan of 
the campaign for 1781, which eventuated in 
the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, and finally 
in a termination of the war. Within six 
i months from the day Colonel Laurens left 

^ America, he returned to it, and brought with 

J> him the- concerted plan of combined opera- 

fj tions. Ardent to rejoin the army, he was i 

s indulged with making a verbal report of his ^ 

5 negotiations to Congress ; and in three days set ^ 

i out to resume his place as one of the aids J 

> of Washington. The American and French ;! 

> army about this time commenced the siege I 
i of York Town. In the course of it. Colonel ^ 
;. Laurens, as second in command, with his j 
<; fellow-aid. Colonel Hamilton, assisted in ! 
j stormmg and taking an advanced British re- ' I 
f^ doubt, which expedited the surrender of Lord ^ 
^f Cornwallis. The articles of capitulation were \ 



238 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



< arranged by Colonel Laurens on behalf of thf» ^ 
^ Americans J 
i *' Charleston and a part of South Carolina \ 
) still remained in the power of the British. ^ 
;! Colonel Laurens thouo;ht nothing done while s 
j any thing remained undone. He therefore, on ;, 
j the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, repaired to -^ 
5 South Carolina, and joined the southern army I; 
i commanded by General Greene. In the course ^ 
i of the summer of 1782, he caught a common ;• 
I fever, and was sick in bed when an expedition < 
I was undertaken against a party of the British, ^ 
J which had gone to Combakee to carry off rice. (, 
j Colonel Laurens rose from his sick bed and ^ 
(• joined his countrymen. While leading an > 
? advanced party, he received a shot, which, on ^ 
\ the 27th of August, 1782, at the close of the > 
} war, put an end to his valuable life, in the ;! 

< 27th year of his age. His many virtues have J 
s been ever since the subject of eulogy, and his > 
> early fall, of national lamentation. The ,• 
{ fourth of July seldom passes without a tribute 
j to his memory." 



) > 



THOMAS MIFFLIN, 

Major-General in the American Armt. 



1; " Thomas Mifflin, a major-general in the 

\ American army during the revolutionary war, 

I and governor of Pennsylvanid, was born in 
the year 1744^, of parents who were Quakers. 

\ His education was intrusted to the care of the 

\ Kev. Dr. Smith, with whom he was connected 

\ in habits of cordial intimacy and friendship 

s for more than forty years. Active and zea- 

j lous, he engaged early in opposition to the 

5 measures of the British parliament. He was a 

) member of the first Congress, in 1774. He 

J took arms, and was among the first officers 

s commissioned on the organization of the con- 

J tinental army, being appointed quart ermaster- 

': general in August, 1775. For this offence he 

> was read out of the society of Quakers. In 

> 1777, he was very useful in animatixig the 
j militia, and enkindling the spirit which seemed 
J to have been damped. His sanguine disposi- 
s tion, and his activity, rendered him insensible 
j to the value of that coolness and caution 
I which were essential to the preservation of 
i 239 



240 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 






sucli an army as was then under the command 
of General Washington. In 1787, he was a 
member of the convention which framed the 

constitution of the United States, and his name > 

\ is affixed to that instrument. In October 

i 1788, he succeeded Franklin as president of 

i the supreme executive council of Pennsylvania, j 

? in which station he continued till October, j 

> 1790. In September, a constitution for this ^ 

^ state was formed by a convention, in which he J 

^ presided, and he was chosen the first governor. j 

I In 1794, during the insurrection in Penn- I 

<; sylvania, he employed, to the advantage of his <, 

5 country, the extraordinary powers of elocution i 

\ with which he was endowed. The imper- ) 

J faction of the militia laws was compensated J 

5 by. his eloquence. He made a circuit through J 

J the lower counties, and, at different places, j 

< publicly addressed the militia on the crisis in J 

S the affairs of their country, and through his i; 

J" animating exhortations the state furnished the ) 

J quota required. He was succeeded in the \ 

s office of governor by Mr. M'lvean, at the s 

s close of the j^ear 1799, and hp died at I^ncas- J 

\ ter, January 20, 1800, in tho L>Ay-seven*b i 

i vear of his ase." s 



GILBERT MOTTIER LAFAYETTE, j 

Major-General of the American Army. b 

Marquis de Lafayette was born on the 6th \ 

of September, 1757, at the chateau de Cha- J 

vagnac, in the department of Haute Loire, and \ 

was the inheritor of a princely fortune, and de- < 

scended from distino-uished ancestors. At i 

I seven years of age, he entered the college of ^ 

> Louis le Grande, at Paris, and commenced his '< 

I^ literary education. Here the lovely but ill- J 

^ fated Antoinette, the late queen of France, took j; 

1 him under her immediate patronage, and at a i 
j very early age, he rose to the rank of a com- > 
i, missioned officer in the king's guards. In ^ 

2 1774, he married the Countess de Noilles. At \ 
\ nineteen years of age, he sailed for America, «; 
\ and landed on the shores of South Carolina, «; 
J This illustrious friend had become an advocate > 
\ cf the colonies, and felt all that ardor in the \ 
J cause of liberty which did not desert him in s 
\ maturer years. Lafayette had watched atten- J 
5 tively the momentous controversy between < 
s Great Britain and her oppressed subjects, and ? 
< .esolved to make any sacrifice in their cause. > 



242 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



i He made known his intention to Dr. Franklin 

\ then our commissioner in France, who laid be- J 

J fore him the disastrous state of the country. ^ 

') " The more hopeless your cause," said he, " the i 

§ more occasion is there for my assistance, the ) 

^, more honor shall I acquire by bestowing it." i 

^ He immediately equipped a vessel for this en- ] 

terprise at his own expense, and severing the ties i 
which would have detained him in his native ' <; 

country, he sailed for the United States. Ar- j 

rived at Philadelphia, he presented himself be- \ 

? fore Congress. " I am come," said he, " to re- < 

J quest two favors of this assemblage of patriots. J 

^ One is that I may serve in your army ; the ■; 

\ other, that I receive no pay." He was imme- \ 

i diately received into the family of Washington, J 

;! and congress, in July following, tendered him [; 

J a commission of major-general. Soon after, < 

\ learning the embarrassments of the army, he '', 

gave Washington 60,000 francs, (about 11,000 > 

> dollars,) to procure supplies ; by which gener- J 

^ ous act, Washington was so affected, that he r; 

j embraced Lafayette with tears of joy and affec- 1; 

) tion. At the battle of Brandy wine, the mar- 'j 

i , quis exhibited full evidence of his bravery -; 
i and military character, and in this bloody con- 
\ \e6t was wounded. After his recovery, he 



LAFAYETTE. 245 

joined General Green, in New Jersey, and was 
at the head of 2000 men, who'm he had formed, 
clothed, armed, equipped and disciplined him- 
self. He was afterwards actively employed in 
different parts of the country, till 1779, when 
he returned to France, his object to obtain as- 
sistance for his adopted country. In this he 
succeeded, and in May, 17S0, he returned with 
the joyful intelligence that a !• rench fleet and 
army would soon arrive on our coast. He im- 
mediately resumed his command, and in the 
campaigns of 17S0 and 1781, he displayed the 
most consummate generalship in preserving his 
little army, then opposed to Lord Cornwallis 
till the siege of that general at Yorktown, where, 
collected and undismayed, he shared largely in 
the honors of the day. In November, 1781, 
the contest, in which he had been so nobly en- 
gaged, drawing near a completion, Lafayette 
signified his intention of returning to his coun- 
try. After the conclusion of peace, in August, 
1784, General Lafayette again \isited the 
United States, and several of the larger cities, 
in some of which the freedom of the city was 
presented him ; he returned to France in De- 
cember following. 

General Lafayette was a member of the As 



16 i 



j 244 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

I sembly of Notables at Versailles, in 1787, and 

I in 1789 he was elected a member of the States 

^' General, made president of that assembly, and 

} commandant of the National Guards. In this 

] capacity his influence was exerted in favor of 

i lenient measures ; and he did much to prevent 

\ the mob of Paris from running into those 

\ horrid excesses which were afterwards com- 

\ mitted. He acted a conspicuous part on the 

\ day the constitution was adopted, and soon 

\ after resigned his command. In 1792, he was 

< called again into service ; but on that memora- 
i ble day, the 10th of August, when the royal 
«; family fled to the National Assembly for safety, 
j he opposed the fury of the mob, was deprived 
j of command, a price was set on his head, and 
i he was obliged to fly his country for safety. 
\ He was thrown into prison by the king of 
J Prussia, and afterwards chained and imprisoned 
\ by the emperor of Austria in the citadel a^ 
\ Olmutz. His estate was confiscated. In 
/ prison, he was subjected to the most barbarous 
j treatment, and frequently threatened with an 
s ignominious death. Great exertions were made 

< to obtain his liberation without effect, until, in 
1797, in settling terms of peace with Austria, 
Bonaparte expressly stipulated that Lafayette 



LAFAYETTE. 245 



J should be set at liberty, and in 1799, after the J 

s overthrow of the French Directory, he returned ^ 

i to France, and settled at La Grange, abouc \ 

^ forty miles from Paris. Previous to Bona- j 

\ parte's first abdication, he was elected to the j 

J chamber of deputies, and there proposed a vote ? 

f. of permanent session, which was passed, and in \ 

i consequence, the emperor found himself under b 

<• the necessity of abdicating the throne. From < 

^ that period to the time of his embarkation for \ 

the United States, with the exception of his > 
having been once again elected to the chamber 



I ---„ ^ „ , 

\ of deputies, General Lafayette spent most of his ;■ 

J time in the pursuits of agriculture at La Grange. ^ 

i As soon as it was known in the United States s 



i that the Marquis Lafayette had once more 

"? embarked for the shores of his adopted country, 

;i a general joy pervaded the nation, and all classes } 

< of citizens were prepared to take a lively inter- 

f est in his arrival. The cities of New York 

i and Boston particularly, anticipated the event < 

> with some degree of impatience, and entered ^ 

} into such general arrangements for his recep- ^ 

I tion as were best calculated to do honor to Ij 

;. themselves and their illustrious guest. ) 

<; General Lafayette, accompanied by his son / 

j George Washington Lafayette, Mr. Auguste Le ^ 




246 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

> Vasseur, and one servant, arrived in the harbor ol 



5 New York, on the morning of the 15lh of August, 

"1 in the ship Cadmus, Captain Allyn, after a 

ji pleasant passage of thirty-one days from Havre. 



\ His arrival was made known by the telegraph 



at an early hour, and spread through the city ;; 

with electrical rapidity. Broadway was soon s 

thronged, and the Battery crowded with peo- J 

pie, who saUied forth with the expectation that ^ 

the hero and veteran of two revolutions would s 

come directly to the city. The arrangements jl 

of the city authorities, however, for his recep- < 
lion, having been seasonably communicated to 



him, he landed at Staten Island, and was con- ^ 



< ducted to the seat of the Vice-President, where ^ 
>\ he remained through the day, and passed the '^ 
J night. Fort Lafayette fired a salute as the ship ;! 
1; passed, and a salute was fired as the general s 
J landed. j; 
I In the city the national flag was immediately > 

< hoisted and displayed at all the public places > 
s during the day, ) 

^ PROCEEDINGS, UPON RECEPTION OF THE MARQUIS LAFAY- ^ 

ETTE INTO THE CITY OF NEW YORB., ON MONDAY THE I 

16th of august. j 

Arrangements of the Corporation. J 

The committee of arrangements of the cor- J 

poration have the pleasure to announce to theii J 

\ 






LAFAYETTE. 247 



< fellow-citizens the arrival of the distinofuished \ 

> guest of their country, the Marquis de Lafay- i 
\ ette. I 
J The following are the arrangements made \ 
^ for his reception in the city. { 

> ^ The committee of arrangements of the Cor- \ 

) poration, the generals and other officers of the \ 

f. United States Army, the officers of the Navy, \ 

C the major-generals and the brigadier-generals of J 

\ the Militia, the president of the Chamber of \ 

\ Commerce, the committee from the Society of s 

\ Cincinnati, will proceed at 9 o'clock this day to J 

^ Staten Island, where the marquis is lodged, \ 

] and escort him to the city. They will be ac- \ 

) companied by the steam-boats, all with decora- 5 

{, tions except that in which the marquis is em- \ 

\ barked, which will only have the flag of the > 

,- United States and the flag of New York; \ 

{ bands of music beino- in each. ,'' 

\ ^ 

1, The marquis' embarkation will be announced > 

'; by a salute from Fort Lafayette and the steam- \ 

; ship Robert Fulton. \ 

\ The forts in the harbor will also salute as ;,' 

J the vessels pass. \ 

j The masters of vessels are requested to hoist .'; 

\ their flags at mast-head, and, where convenien !> 

\ to dress their vessels. s 



L _^, \ 



^ — 
I 

I 



248 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



The bells of the city will be rung from 12 to ■; 

1 o'clock. ^ 

The portrait room of the City Hall is app'O- \ 



!■ priated to the marquis, where, during his stay, s 

^ he will, after this day, between the hours of ;! 

<, twelve and two o'clock, receive the visits of such < 

i of the citizens as are desirous of paying their ^ 

<; respects to him. 



The committee of arrangfements of the Cor- < 

I 



poration having accepted the proffered services 
of the steam-ship Robert Fulton, and the steam- 
5 boats Chancellor Livingston, Oliver Ellsworth, ^ 

Henry Eckford, Connecticut, Bellona, Olive 
Branch, Nautilus, &c. ; they were all superbly 
^ dressed with flags and streamers of every na- 

;! tion, and directed to meet and form an aquatic 

I escort between the south part of the Battery | 

< and Governor's Island, and thence proceed in \ 

\ order to Staten Island. The spectacle, as the 1 

J boats were assembling, was truly interesting ; 

j and beautiful. The Battery was crowded with j 

> respectable people of both sexes ; Castle Gar- 

l den was filled, and every boat that arrived to ; 

' take its station was completely crowded with | 

^ elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen. The I 

j appearance of the Robert Fulton, as she came j 

\ down the East River, from the Navy Yard, ? 



LAFAYETTE. 249 j 

I escorted by the Connecticut and Oliver Ells- \ 

^ worth, all superbly decorated, was rich beyond { 

} description. Her yards were manned to the j 

\ round-tops, with about 200 seamen from the j 

\ Constitution, who made an elegant appearance; \ 

\ and a battalion of marines, under the command \ 

I of Major Smith, was on board, with a band of \ 

jl music, and many of the naval officers upon this s 

j station, together with several ladies and private ? 

\ gentlemen. \ 

^ Arrived at the place of rendezvous, the several | 

vessels comprising the fleet took their station, \ 

and proceeded in regular order to the quaran- < 

tine, as follows: — First, the Chancellor Liv- \ 

ingston, on board of which were the committee j 

of the Corporation, Major-General Morton and j 

'! suite, a number of the members of the Cincin- \ 

\ nati, including Colonels Willet, Varick, Trum- ^ 

^ bull, Piatt, and others, together with a few \ 

:i ladies, several officers and professors from J 

I West Point, accompanied by the excellent mil- \ 

s itary band attached to that institution. On the s 

|; right of the Chancellor, and about a length in ^ 

\ rear, was the Connecticut, and on the left, to \ 

> correspond, was the Oliver Ellsworth. Di- J 

) rectly in the rear of the Chancellor was the ) 

^ Robert Fulton, whose lofty masts and wide- \ 

\ \ 



I 250 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. J 

i spread arms, which literally swarmed with j 

f ■ men towered proudly above her less-pretend- i 

I iug, but not less gay and beautiful consorts. > 

\ On the right of the Robert Fulton, about a ^ 

\ length m the rear, was the Bellona, and on the j 

{ left, the Henry Eckford, in a station to corre- J 

< spond ; and the squadron was closed by the •; 
i Olive Branch and Nautilus. The signals ex- I; 
' changed, and the steam-boats having attained J 
I their stations, as above stated, the squadron got \ 
j under way, amidst the cheers of thousands of \> 
I delighted spectators. The view of this fleet ;! 

< will perhaps never be forgotten. It was not • j 
^ only unique, but beyond a doubt, one of the (, 
? most splendid spectacles ever witnessed on this ? 
s part of the globe. The squadron, bearing six > 
^ thousand of our fellow-citizens, majestically took \> 
J; its course towards Staten Island, there to take on J 
\ board our long expected and honored guest. At ;, 
1' one o'clock the fleet arrived at Staten Island, and > 



^ sion was formed, and the venerable stranger, 

!; the ofRcers of the island, and a crowd of citi 



j in a few minutes a landau was seen approach- J 

•^ ing the hotel, near the ferry. The Marquis, \ 

\ the Vice-President, and the Ex-Governor Og- I 



den of New Jersey, having alighted, a proces- ) 

^ sion was formed, and the venerable stranger, j 

supported by these gentlemen, followed by all J 



LAFAYETTE. 251 



zens, passed through a triumphal arch, round s 

which was tastefully entwined the French and s 

American colors. As soon as the marquis and \ 

suite entered on the broad stairs, connected I; 

with, and leading to, the steam-boat which was ',; 

J to convey him to the city, he was received by I; 

s' the committee of the Common Council, who \ 

\ conducted him on board the Chancellor Livino*- • ! 

I) . '^ s 

j; ston. On entering this splendid vessel, the \ 

;.' marines paid him military honors. He was \ 

\ now introduced to the committees from most of >' 

our honored associations, and the general offi- \ 

cers representing the infantry. The West \ 

Point band all this time was playing " See '^ 

the Conquering Hero Comes," "Ow peut on < 

etne mieux" "Hail Columbia," and the "Mar- \ 

'. seilles Hymn." The steamship now fired a \ 

) salute, and the whole squadron got under way ? 

J for the city, in the same order as before, except \ 

'( that the Bellona and Olive Branch fastened ? 

j each side of the Cadmus, (the ship which \ 

\ brought the general from France,) decorated \ 

j with colors, and filled with passengers, majes- \ 

i tically moved up the bay. The sea was smooth \ 

j and placid, and the breeze cool and agreeable. i 

> The most interesting sight was the reception of ^? 

^ the general by his old companions in arms, j 



they set up such a yell, that they frightened 
the British horse, and they ran one way and 
the Indians another." 

No person who witnessed this interview will 
ever forget it ; many an honest tear was shed 
on the occasion. The young men retired to a 
little distance, while the venerable soldiers were 
indulging recollections, and embracing each 



252 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION / 

Colonel Marinus Willet, now in his eighty- J 

J fifth year, General Van Courtland, General \ 

I Clarkson, and the other worthies whom we \ 

J have mentioned. Colonel Fish, General Lewis, -I 

^ and several of his comrades were absent. He j 

J embraced them all affectionately, and Colonel ^ 

^ Willet again and again. He knew and re- S 

^ membered them all. It was a reunion of a s 

^ loriS" separated family. < 

After the ceremony of embracing and con- i 

gratulations were over, he sat down alongside ? 

of Colonel Willet, who grew young again, and j 

fought all his battles o'er. " Do you remem- J 

ber," said he, " at the battle of Monmouth, I s 

was volunteer aid to General Scott? I saw <; 

you in the heat of battle. You were but a boy, i 

but you were a serious and sedate lad. Aye, ^ 

aye ; I remember well. And on the Mohawk, ,'• 

I sent you fifty Indians, and you wrote me that > 



LAFAYETTE. 



253 



other again and again; and the surrounding J 

youth silently dropt the tear they could no i 

longer restrain. Such sincere, such honest \ 

feelings were never more plainly or truly ex- ^ 

pressed. The sudden changes of the counte- s 

nance of the marquis plainly evinced the emo- J 

tions he endeavored to suppress. He manfully J 

supported this truly trying situation for some \ 

time, when a revolutionary story from the ven- > 

erable Willet recalled circumstances long past : \ 

the incident, the friend alluded to, made the l 

I marquis sigh, and his swelling heart was re- ^^ 

i lieved when he burst into tears. The sympa- \ 

J* thetic feelings extended to all present; and !' 

^ even the hardy tar rubbed away the tear he > 

s . could no longer restrain. The scene was too ^ 

I affecting to be continued, and one of the Cin- J 

< cinnati, anxious to divert the attention of the < 

> marquis, his eyes flowing with tears, announced < 

^ the near approach of the steam-ship. The j; 

i marquis advanced to the quarter-railing, where j 

he was no sooner perceived by the multitude, J 

than an instantaneous cheer most loudly ex- s 

pressed the delight they experienced. The ^ 

other steamboats in succession presented them- i, 

selves, and passed, each giving three enthusi- ^ 

5 astic cheers. The marquis was delighted, and \ 



1 



5 254 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

f especially with the activity and quickness with I 

] which 200 of our gallant seamen manned the \ 

j yards of the steam-frigate, previous to the s 

\ salute. About two o'clock, P. M., the fleet J 

\ arrived ofT the Battery. What an impressive j 

j scene ! — 8000 men, making a splendid appear- j 

^ ance, formed in line with a battering train. ;! 

J The ramparts and parapets of the Castle were s 

j lined with ladies and gentlemen. The flag- J 

J stafl*, the windows, and even the roofs of the J 

;; houses facing the bay, were literally crowded >, 

^ with spectators. Hundreds of boats and J 

^ wherries silrrounded the Battery. The mar- < 

ij quis left the Chancellor Livingston in a barge |j 

J commanded by Lieutenant Mix, of the navy, ^ 

\ accompanied by the committee of the Corpora- • J 

< tion, and the Cincinnati, the generals of in- \ 

\ fantry, Sec. ; and landed amidst the cheers and j 

i; acclamations of 30,000 people, who filled the '{ 

\ Castle, Battery, and surrounding grounds within \ 

J sight. The marquis now entered the Castle, \ 

^ which was tastefully carpeted from the landing \ 

\ place to the receiving rooms. He then par- S 

/ took of some refreshment, and was introduced j 

j to some distinguished citizens. Perceiving the ^ 

I restless anxiety of nearly 3000 persons in the 'l 

j Castle, to see the general, the marquis advarced ^ 



LAFAYETTE. 255 



\ to the centre of the rear of the Castle, and was } 

I greeted with loud cheers. From Castle Gar- < 

5 den, he proceeded with the appointed com- j 

I mittee, and the military and naval officers, to J 

^ review the line of troops under the command \ 

\ of Brigadier-General Benedict. The niusier J 

5 was, on this occasion, unusually numerous { 

^ and splendid, each corps vying with the others ^ 

'^> in paying a tribute of respect to the soldier of > 

J the revolution, the friend and companion of ;J 

i Washington. After the review, the general, < 

\ accompanied by General Morton, entered a )< 

^ barouche, drawn by four horses. < 

\ The committee of the Corporation, accompa J 

J nied by the general's son, George Washington ^ 

;; Lafayette, and his secretary, Mr. Le Vasseur, > 

S followed the carriages. The general was ;J 

J escorted by a corps of cavalry, and at the head ;.' 

I of the column of troops, proceeded up Broadway <, 

to the City Hall. The crowds which had as- >\ 

sembled to pay honor to the respected visitor, .; 

and to be gratified with a view of his person, {• 

■ were such as almost to prevent the passage of '^ 

the carriages and the troops. The scene coald s 

not but have afforded to the general the most ^ 

delightful gratification. The houses to the ^ 

very roofs were filled with spectators, and to the i 



5 256 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. j 

\ incessant cheers of the multitude, graceful fe- J 



males signified their welcome by the silent, but \ 

not less grateful and affecting testimony of the J 

waving of handkerchiefs. j 

Arrived at the City Hall, the marquis was ;. 

conducted by the committee to the Common I 

Council Chamber, where the Corporation were \ 

assembled. The members of the Common ^ 

Council rose on his entrance, and upon being i 

presented by the chairman. Alderman Zabris- \ 

kie, to the Mayor, his honor addressed him in > 

the following speech : < 

Address of the Mayor. > 

"General — In the name of the municipal 
authority of the city, I bid you a sincere wel- 
come to the shores of a country, of whose fre- 
^ dom and happiness you will ever be considered 

^ one of the most honored and beloved founders. 

I " Your only contemporaries in arms, of whom j 

< indeed but few remain, have not forgot, and \ 

? their posterity will never forget, the young and j 

5 gallant Frenchman who consecrated his youth, \ 

> his talents, his fortune, and his exertions, to j 

> their cause — who exposed his life — who shed i 
'p his blood, that they might become free and j 
s happy. They will recollect with profound emo- i 



LAFAYETTE. 257 ? 

don, so long as they remain worthy of the lib- j 

erties they enjoy, and of the exertions you made < 

to obtain them, that you came to them in the ^ 

darkest period of their struggle — that you J 

linked your fortune with theirs, when it seemed \ 

almost hopeless — that you shared in the dan- ^ 

gers, privations and sufferings of that bitter I 

struggle, nor quitted them for a moment till it ;; 

was consummated on the glorious field of York- \ 

town. Half a century has passed since that ? 

great event, and in that time your name has be- ^ 

come as dear to the friends, and as inseparably ;. 

connected with the cause of freedom in the old, ^. 



as in the new world. J 

" The people of the United States look up to J 

you as to one of their most honored parents — J 

the country cherishes you as one of the most I 

beloved of her sons. I hope and trust, sir, that j 

not only the present, but future conduct of my < 

countrymen, to the latest period of time, will, j 

among other slanders, refute the unjust imputa- 
tion that republics are always ungrateful to 
their benefactors. 

" In behalf of my fellow-citizens of New Vork, 
and speaking the warm and universal senti- 
ments of the whole people of the United States 
I repeat their welcome to our common country 



258 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION, 



^ " Pe.rmit me to add, that the momen. of my J 

^ life to which I shall look back with the greatest J 

J pleasure and pride, will be that in which it fell j 

) to my lot to be an organ for expressing, how- \ 

'^ ever feebly, a nation's gratitude." "' 



s General Lafayette^s A?iswer. s 

J " Sir, — While I am so affectionately received •! 

§ by the citizens of New York and their worthy <; 

;! representatives, I feel myself overwhelmed with !; 

;j inexpressible emotions. The sight of the Amer- "? 

> ican shore, after so long an absence ; the recol- ^ 

;^ lection of the many respected friends and dear jl 

J companions, no more to be found on this land ; I 

\ the pleasure to recognize those who have sur- < 

1; vived ; this immense concourse of a free repub- \ 

j lican population , who so kindly welcome me ; the 

5 admirable appearance of the troops ; the presence 

I of a corps of the national navy ; — have excited 

\ sentiments, to which no human language can 

be adequate. You have been pleased, sir, to < 

allude to the happiest times, the unalloyed en- } 



joyments of my public life. It is the pride of my ^ 

heart to have been one of the earliest adopted 'J 

sons of America : I am proud also to add, that up- j 

wards of forty years ago I have been particularly / 

honored with the freedom of this city. I beg ? 



J 



f 



{ LAFAYETTE. 259 



i you, Mr. Mayor, — I beg you, gentlemen, to 

/ accept yourselves, and to transmit to the citi- 

J zens of New York, the homage of my profound j 

! and everlasting gratitude, devotion and re- \ 

< spect." J 
i The general and his son were then intro- <' 
\ duced to the members of the Common Council ^ 
<; individually. < 
^ After the adjournment of the Common j 
? Council, the marquis received the marching < 
;'. salute in front of the City Hall, and again J 
i entered the hall, accompanied by his son and <; 
> suite, and in the governor's room received s 
^ the Society of the Cincinnati, composed of his J 
\ surviving brothers and companions in the .j 
J field, a small number of whom still remain to < 

< meet and congratulate their long • absent, but ^. 
s' highly respected friend and fellow-soldier. s 

Here, also, he was met by the officers of the 



s army and navy, and many citizens and stran- J 

> gers. From the hall, he was accompanied by ^ 

\ the Common Council, and many distinguished J 

! persons, to the City Hotel, to dine, escorted by |J 

j the troops. \ 

\ The whole exhibition, from the landing at J 

1; the Battery to the time of the dispersion of the '^ 

' people at the Park, was in a high degree^ inter- j 

.- i 



2(30 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



contrasted by his recollection with the suffering 
troops of the war of independence, must have 
made a deep impression upon his mind. 

On Wednesday morning, the 18th, in com- 
p.iance with an invitation from Captain Rodg- 
ers, commandant of the Navy Yard, General 
Lafayette, attended by the committee of ar- 
ranofements, and a select circle of ladies and 



esting and gratifying. The numbers collected .; 



were perhaps unequalled on any former festive 

> occasion. The houses through Broadway were 
5 filled with spectators of the first respectability, 
i' and the street was crowded with people. Every 
\ expression of good feeling was manifested from 
i the windows, doors, and side-walks ; the stran- 
^ ger was welcomed with unfeigned cordiality; 
i and we think it must have afforded to the 
s marquis an unusual degree of delight to find 
j that his services were remembered and ac- 
^ knowledged, and his name cherished, by a free 

> and grateful people. 

J The day was singularly fine — the water 

j scene exceeded in splendor and effect anything 

s of the kind that has ever been exhibited here ; 

\ the appearance of the military was highly cred- ■. 

j itable in equipments, movements and discipline . \ 

> and we have not a doubt their appearance, when \ 



J. 
LAFAYETTE. 26a > 



gentlemen, proceeded, in the elegant steamboat i 

Chancellor Kent, to visit the Navy Yard at ;; 

Brooklyn. j 

5 As the James Kent passed the Grampus ? 

I lying in the North River, a salute of 21 guns J 

< was fired. ') 

i The Kent then proceeded round the Battery j 

J and up the East River, until she came to an- J 

\ chor at the dock, where the steam-frigate is \ 

\ moored, when the marquis and the ladies and \ 

\ gentlemen of the party disembarked — the j 

^ United States frigate Constellation firing at the j 

\ same time a salute of 21 guns. On landing, ' 

\ he was received by three cheers from 200 sail- 

■> ors drawn up for the occasion. 

\ The general then went on board of the \ 

\ steam-frigate, and was much pleased with the (> 

\ construction of this formidable and unique naval > 

^ battlement. \ 

^ On returning, the jolly tars gave three more \ 

^ hearty cheers, and the general proceeded in a J 

^ barge to the Navy Yard ; when another salute ^ 

\ of 21 guns was fired on his landing, and he .J 

j was received by a battalion of marines. \ 

\ The general was then conducted on board f; 

J the Washington 74, where refreshments were s 

\ provided for the whole party. After refreshing \ 



-■>.-w-\^^_^ 



262 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

himself, the general took a rapid survey of the 
ships, and those now building, and returned on 
board the Kent, when another salute was fired 

by the Constitution. \ 

Upon the return of the Marquis Lafayette J 

from the Navy Yard on Wednesday, he was s 

introduced, with his son, to the Historical So- | 

^ ciety, at their room in the Institution, at two j 

\ o'clock, P. M. According to a resolution passed \ 

> the day before, they were made members of the J 

^ society. s 

J After the marquis' arrival at New York, he J 

J early announced his intention to visit Boston, J 

i where he had been particularly invited by dis- j 

^ tinguished individuals, and by the city author- > 

5 ity; especially as the commencement at the > 



university in Cambridge, the literary jubilee 
of the state, was to be celebrated in a few days. 
While in New York, he received invitations 
from Philadelphia, Albany, New Haven, Hart- 
ford, and some other cities, to make a visit to 
those places, but his desire was first to visit 
Boston, if possible. 

The interesting visit at New York being 
closed, at an early hour on Friday morning, a 
scene of general bustle and activity commenced, 
preparatory to the departure of the general for 



LAFAYETTE. 263 



I Boston. The city corporation had provided an \ 

^^ elegant carriage to accommodate him on his j 

^ journey to Boston, and deputed four of their \ 

\ number to attend him on his route. s 

^ He was too sensible of the sincerity and ,'! 

warmth of their felicitation, not to delay his < 

journey at several villages, and to reciprocate >, 

their kind and cordial salutations. It was > 

nearly midnight when he reached the town of ^ 

Dedham, about ten miles from Boston. Most J 
of the houses in this pleasant village were 
handsomely illuminated ; and a great number 
of the inhabitants of both sexes were assembled 
^ to greet him. During the short stay he was 

> able to make here, he was introduced to many > 

J of the principal citizens of the town and vicin- ? 

>^ ity, who had been anticipating his arrival for !; 

'J some hours. When he passed through Rox- \ 

J bury, at one o'clock, he was accompanied by a \ 

s large cavalcade of citizens of that place and 5 

J from Boston ; and a salute was fired by the s 

\ Roxbury corps of artillery. His arrival here ;; 

J was also announced by the ascent of rockets ! 

! from an eminence in the centre of the town ; S 

\ and the note of preparation was thus given for J 

j the parade and pleasure of the succeeding day, I 

i which had been anticipated with uncommon j 



< 264 HEROES OF TKE REVOLUTION. 

^ interest and delight. Lafayette and suite pro« 

i ceeded to the mansion of his Excellency the '> 

> Governor, to which they had been invited ; and > 
;i the meeting between them was truly affection j 
5 ate and cordial. { 

> On Tuesday the 24th, the inhabitants of 5 
^ Boston hailed the morning light with peculiar ■ \ 

emotions, and were abroad at an early hour, J 

preparing for the general testimonies of grati- J 

tude and respect to be presented to the " na- j 



tion's guest." Many of the older citizens s 

recollected him in his youthful days, when he 
visited the town, forty-six years ago, at the re- 
quest of Congress and Washington, to prevail 
on the French admiral to cooperate with his 
Heet in a contemplated attack upon the British 
forces at Rhode Island. They had not forgot- 
ten his zeal and ardor in the cause of America. ^ 
They knew his great attachment to, and respect J 
for, the immortal chief of the American army, '^ 
and the confidence which Washington cherished i 
for Lafayette. And all classes, without intend- \ 
ing to lessen the preeminent services and vir- i, 
tues of Washington, who, under Providence, > 
was the great and chief agent in achieving our J 
independence, and in preserving it, after it ;; 
had been once established — or to undervalue \ 



'l LAFAYETTE. 265 ^/ 



\ .he important efforts and courage of many other j 

s revered heroes and patriots, too numerous to | 

i be here named; — all, all were eager to join in \ 

\ the spontaneous offering of gratitude and affec- ) 

\ tion, to one so justly celebrated and so greatly \ 

J' beloved. ] 

) He entered the city, the capital of the state, i 

\ about eleven o'clock ; and his reception was a \ 

\ triumph and a jubilee. The day was as bright s 

J as his laurels, and as mild as his virtues. The ^ 

\ various bodies designated to compose the pro- \ 

\ cession, and perform the honors of the day, as- j 

sembled at an early hour. The cavalcade was \ 

formed in Common street, at nine o'clock. It s 

was very numerous, and consisted of the citi- J 

zens of Boston, of all ranks and classes, on \ 

\ horseback. Proceeding to the extreme southern \ 

< part of the city, near the line of Roxbury, they j 
\ were joined by the Mayor and Aldermen, and J 
<: members of the Common Council, the Society J 
I of Cincinnati, a great number of public civil ^ 
\ characters, and strangers of distinction, all in ] 
] carriages ; by the General and Field Officers of < 

< the first division of militia, and officers of the J 

> army and navy of the United States. An in- j 

\ numerable concourse of people on foot lined the 

^ 8 de-walks of the spacious street where the pro- 
s' 



26(3 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



J cession was to be formed, the entrance to the 

i city from Roxbury, and fortunately named 

j Washington street. The cavalcade then 

3 proceeded to the mansion of Governor Eustis, 

J which is a short distance within the town of 

j Roxbury, and escorted General Lafayette and 

J suite to the line, where the city authorities and 

? others, who were to compose the procession, 

i were in waiting to receive him. Here he was 

> gieeted by the immense assemblage of citizens 

< with repeated and enthusiastic acclamations, for 

< several minutes, when the mayor welcomed 



j him with much feeling, in the following 1; 

^ speech : — b 

" Sir, — The citizens of Boston welcome you ) 



s on your return to the United States ; mindful of '^ 

< your early zeal in the cause of American Inde- J 

< pendence, grateful for your distinguished share • $ 
i in the perils and glories of its achievements. '<; 

When, urged by a generous sympathy, you first ^ 

landed on these shores, you found a people en- < 

gaged in an arduous and eventful struggle for jj 

liberty, with apparently inadequate means, $ 

and amidst dubious omens. After a lapse of ^ 
nearly half a century, you find the same peoplt 

prosperous beyond all hope and all precedent , ^ 



LAFAYETTE. 267 



'I their liberty secure; sitting in its strength; \ 

^ without fear and without reproach. s 

5 " In your youth you joined the standard of j 

s' three millions of people, raised in an unequal j 

\ and uncertain conflict. In your advanced age j 

J you return and are met by ten millions of > 

'/ people, their descendants, whose hearts throng ^ 

J hither to greet your approach and rejoice in it. ;. 

^ " This is not the movement of a turbulent '•) 

s populace, excited by the fresh laurels of some J 

s recent conqueror ; it is a grave, moralj intellec- '^ 

tual impulse. '<> 

s " A whole people in the enjoyment of free- \ 

J dom, as perfect as the condition of our nature ^ 

f; permits, recur with gratitude, increasing with < 

J the daily increasing sense of their blessings, to \ 

> the memory of those, who, by their labors and 



{ in their blood, laid the foundation of our lib- j 



erties. > 

" Your name, sir, — the name of Lafayette, 'f 

IS associated with the most perilous and most ^ 

glorious periods of our Revolution ; — with the J 

imperishable names of Washington, and of that \ 

numerous host of heroes which adorn the I; 

proudest archives of American history, and are } 

engraven in indelible traces on the hearts of j 

me whole An 3rican people. J 



^ virtues. 



gious reverence for the cradle of American^ and 
\ let me hope it will hereafter be said, of univer- 

> sal liberty. 

" What must be, sir, my feelings, at the 
blessed moment, when, after so long an absence, 
I find myself again surrounded by the good 
citizens of Boston — where I am so affection- 
ately, so honorably welcomed, not only by old 
friends, but by several successive generations ; 
where I can witness the prosperity, the im- 
mense improvements, that have been the just 
reward of a noble struggle, virtuous morals, and 
truly republican institutions. 

" I beg you, Mr. Mayor, gentlemen of the 



\ 



\ 268 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. ? 

\ > 

J " Accept then, sir, in the sincere spirit in J 

I which it is offered, this simple tribute to your s 



r- " Again, sir, the citizens of Boston bid you \ 

S welcome to the cradle of American Indepen- { 

^ dence, and to scenes consecrated with the blood ;J 

\ shed by the earliest martyrs in its cause." < 

I General Lafayette then rose in his carriage, ^ 

< and in a most interesting manner replied as ^^ 

\ follows : — < 

^ " The emotions of love and gratitude, which ! 

I I have been accustomed to feel on my entering I 



this city, have ever mingled with a sense of reli- ^ 



> 

^, gious reverence for the cradle of American^ and \ 

5 > • •• -■' '■ ------- ^ 

s 

1 

I 
\ 

s 
I' 



LAFAYETTE. 269 



City Council, and all of you, beloved citizens 
of Boston, to accept the respectful and warm 
thanks of a heart which has for nearly half a 
century been particularly devoted to your illus- 
trious city." 

The reply of the general was received with 
new plaudits of the assembled people; and 

Welcome, welcome, Lafayette ! friend of \ 



s following order : — Three marshals, the Boston 






^ Washington! friend of America! friend of ;; 

*! Liberty ! " was repeated again and again ; and '' 



the heights of Dorchester and Roxbury echoed \ 

with the joyful acclamation. ? 

The procession was then formed, and passed i 

through Washington, Milk, Broad, State, I 

Court, and Tremont streets, to Boylston street, < 
adjoining the south part of the Common, in the 



^ <; 



corps of Light Dragoons, a battalion of Light 5 

Infantry, composed of the Fusiliers, Boston \ 

Light Infantry, Winslow Blues, Washington S 

Light Infantry, New England Guards, Rang- < 

ers, and City Guards; and a full band of J 

music. Then followed the chief marshal, ? 

attended by aids ; members of the City Council, \ 

Committee of Arrangements, the President of J 

;he Common Council, and senior Alderman, all J 
in carriages. Here was placed another mar- 



L- 



5 270 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. \ 

I shal, immediately preceding the elegant ba- 'j 

\ rouche, drawn by four beautiful white horses, J 

in which rode the distinguished guest of the J; 

[ city and of the nation, accompanied by the 5 

f. mayor, with marshals also on either side. The s 

\ son and friend of Lafayette, and gentlemen \ 

> aldermen from New York, next followed in ^, 

I carriages ; and these were succeeded by the I; 

\ Society of the Cincinnati, public characters, ^ 

< judges and legislators, and distinguished stran- J^ 

J gers, in carriages also. Immediately after, s 

? two marshals ; field and staff officers of the / 

^ militia, mounted on horseback, and followed i, 

I also by two marshals. The cavalcade of citi- ^ 

J zens, of all ranks and in great numbers, with > 

J marshals attending, closed the voluntary but ^ 

d triumphant procession. jl 

\ The dwellino-.houses and stores on the > 

f . s 

$ streets through which the procession was con- > 

s ducted, were crowded with inhabitants in every '^ 

J part. The ladies thus situated caught the en- I 

i thusiasm of the occasion, waved their white | 

\ handkerchiefs, and with smiles and gladness, j 

> greeted the veteran hero, who appeared affecteQ j 
I and delighted by these demonstrations of a joy- 

)' ful welcome. ^ 

5 Excepting the cavalcade, the procession ? 






LAFAYETTE. 271 



handed into the carriage, and by the mayor 
presented to Lafayette, who pressed an affec 



she held on his head. He made a short but 
affectionate reply, and placed the wreath on the 
seat of the carriage. Attached to the wreath 
of flowers was a small piece of paper, carefully 
folded, which contained these lines, said to be 



{ composed by the mother of the child : 

< <An infant hand presents these blushing flowers, 

I Glowing and pure as childhood's artless hours, 



passed through the Common from Boylston to ;; 

J Park street, on the eastern margin, and be- ^ 

I tween two lines of children, of both sexes, be- j 

\ longing to the several schools in the city. ."> 

!; Their ages were from about eight to twelve, j 

;. and nearly three thousand in number. Their \ 

\ dress was neat and uniform ; the misses in ^ 

^ white, and the masters in white pantaloons and J 

\ blue spencers. They also wore ribbons on j 

\ their breasts, stamped with a miniature likeness J 

J of Lafayette. As the carriage in which the s 

s general rode was passing, one of the misses J 

5 darted from the line w^here she was standing, <; 

i and requested to speak with him. She was \ 



,■ iiaiiutju 1(1 lu tut; caiiiage, uiiu uy iiie mayor ? 

j tionate kiss on her blooming, yet blushing s 

\ cheek. She had confidence, however, to ad- ;; 

J dress him, and place a wreath of flowers which j 



1 272 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. f 

i "Where roses bloom, and buds of promise smile \ 

< Repaying with their charms the culturer's toil. ^ 

\ Oh ! take them, father, they were culled for you ! ^ 

•, (Still bright with warm affection^ $ sacred dew — ^ ;> 

) let them live in thy benignant smile, ? 

f. And o'er thy hrom of glory bloom awhile ! \ 

\ Twined with the laurel Fame on thee bestowed, J 

\ "When thy young heart with patriot ardor glowed ; ^ 

^ Self-exiled from the charms of rvealth and love, f 

I Anihome, and frie7ids, ihoM didst our champion provCf i 

I And, by the side of glorious Washington, ^ 

^ Didst make our grateful country all thine own ! "? 

I Go, fragile offering, speak the ardent joy j 

!» Our bosoms feel, which time can ne'er destroy ! " J 

^ Arches were thrown across several of the s 

I principal streets through which Lafayette was ] 

^ conducted, covered with evergreens and flow- j 

^ ers, and containing appropriate mottos. There \ 

I were two in Washington street. On one of J 

s these was very legibly written, " 1776 — Wash- s 

s INGTON and Lafayette. Welcome, Lafayette — s 

i A Republic not ungrateful" On the other,— J 

"Welcome, Lafayette." S 

" The fathers in glory shall sleep, s 

Who gathered with thee to the fight j j 

But the sons will eternally keep ^ 

The tablet of gratitude bright. j 



LAFAYETTE. 273 

We bow not the neck, 
And we bend not the knee. 

But our he9,rts, Lafayette, 
We surrender to thee." 

When the procession arrived at the steps of 
the State House, near the head of Park street, 
salutes were fired by a battalion of artillery, on 
the eminence on the western part of the Com- 
mon, and at the Navy Yard at Charlestown. 
Salutes were also fired by a battalion of artil- 
lery, placed on the heights of Dorchester, (now 
South Boston,) when General Lafayette reached 
the line of the city, at eleven o'clock. 

The Governor and Executive Council of the 
Commonwealth were assembled in the spacious 
\ Senate Chamber to receive Lafayette in the 

i name of the representatives of the people, and 

? in pursuance of their resolve of June preceding, 

5 as well as in accordance with their own per- 

,s sonal feelings and wishes. His Excellency the 

j Governor here addressed him with great feel- 

s ing>^ in the following concise and pertinent 

J speech : — 



f \ 



* Governor Eustis was so aifected that he had to 
call on one of his aids to read a greater part of the 
address. 



^ 274 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. '^ 



{ " Sir, our Friend, — In the name of the \ 

j government, and in behalf of the citizens of Mas- > 

\ sajhusetts, I have the honor to greet you with ^ 

') a :ordial and affectionate welcome. I 

J, " We thank God that he has been pleased to ) 

^ preserve you through the scenes of peril and \ 

^ of suffering which have distinguished your ) 

5 patriotic and eventful life, and that we are in- j 

^j dulged with this occasion of renewing to you J 

\ our grateful acknowledgments for the impor- s' 

>, tant services which you have rendered to our \ 

common country. s 

> " In the last surviving major-general of the !; 

< American revolutionary army we recognize a J 

benefactor and friend, from a distant and gal- s 

lant nation ; w^ho, inspired by love of liberty, '< 

\ subjected himself in his youth to the toils and < 

\ hazards of a military life, in support of our \ 

\ rio-hts. Under our illustrious WashinMon, \\ 

\ . . . , s 

[. you were instrumental in establishing the lib- > 

I erties of our country, while your gallantry in ;■ 



^ 



" With the enjoyment of the blessings of in- 
dependence, v^'e shall never cease to associate 
the name of Lafayette, and our prayer to 
Heaven will be for his health and prosperity." 



^ the field secured to yourself an imperishable i> 

( renown. s 



} LAFAYETTE. 275 \ 

j To which the general, with much animation, \ 

I replied: — j 

J " Sir, — When, in the name of the people i 

i and government of this state, your excellency is j 

< pleased so kindly to welcome an American \ 

I veteran,! am proud to share the enjoyments of .; 

i such a reception with my revolutionary com- \ 

\ panions and brother soldiers. Sir, I am de- ^ 

i lighted with what I see, I am oppressed with < 



what I feel ; but I depend upon you, as an old 

friend, to do justice to my sentiments." < 

I^ Afterwards, a great number of gentlemen ^ 

1; were introduced to Lafayette, in the Senate J 

'r- Chamber; of whom were the judges and other ') 

public officers of the United States, of the state < 

'< and of the city; members of the Society of ^ 

>, Cincinnati, with their venerable and distin- J; 

guished president, Honorable John Brooks, late <; 

J Governor of the Commonwealth. Lafayette ^ 

;'' recognized his old military and personal friend '} 

;> at the first sight, and embraced him with great ;, 

'< cordiality and affection. Some other veterans ^ 

;; of the revolutionary army, who were present, i 

i he also recollected, and discovered strong emo- ^, 

> tions as they approached him and took his /^ ^ 

i* hand. Indeed, he was so eager to meet them, |jP 

'} (hat he very generally first seized them, and j IM^ 

i 18 ] ^ 

i 



j 276 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

J clung to them with all the affection of a brother. 

'i The scene was inexpressibly affecting. There 

j was not a heart untouched — not a cheek un- 

\ moistened by the falling tear. To weep then 

j was not weakness ; it was proof of gratitude \ 

( and of a generous feeling, which is an honor to | 

l human nature. i 

j By particular request, and to gratify the \ 

I wishes of the people collected in front of the I 

^ State House, General Lafayette appeared in j 

s the colonnade of this superb edifice, where he s 

^ was greeted with loud and continued cheers. ^ 

j He was then conducted by the committee of $ 

J arrangements to the residence provided for him ^ 

j at the head of Park street. A public dinner 5 

;> was given by the city authorities, in honor of < 

their noble guest ; and the invitation was ex- < 



the governor and ex-governor of the Common- 
wealth, judicial, and other public characters. 

While in Boston, invitations flowed in, and 
hospitalities were tendered to him, from all parts 
of New England. The general, ever anxious 
to please and gratify the people in all sections 
of the United States, improved his earliest con- 
venience to visit in course most of the principal 
cities and towns in the New England States, 



s tended to senators and members of congress 'j 

1: 



L_ 



*' cheers" and "welcomes" which testified to 
him how dear he was in the hearts of a nation 
of freemen. 

The general again rested himself a few days, 
on this his third visit at New York, after which 
he left on his triumphal march through New 
Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania and Maryland 



LAFAYETTE. 277 

closing his first Eastern tour the 1st of Septem- 
oer, at Hartford, where he embarked on board 
a magnificently decorated steamboat whic^ 
floated tranquilly over the sound, and landed 

him again safely at New York, amid the wel- j 

coming shouts of the united voices of the citi- s 

zens of the empire city of the Union. <, 

After another short visit in New York, La- ^ 

fayette again left by steamboat up the Hudson, e 

for West Point, Albany, and intermediate > 

I places, at which points it is deemed unneces- j. 

sary to state that impatient thousands waited to I 

welcome the nation's guest. f, 

,*> The general made but a short stay at the J 

i places above named, when he again returned { 

< down the Hudson to New York, where he ar- \ 

c, rived safely at Courtlandt-street wharf. Lafay- ^ 

^ ette was here again literally overwhelmed with i 
5 hospitalities tendered from all quarters, and at 

) almost every step the welkin rang with j 



-^j-^-\.-\j-.' 



L 



878 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. /^ 

on to the city of Washington, — the seat of that j 

government for which his youthful heart had j 

inspired him to do so much, in assisting to lay :> 

Its corner-stone. "* j 

Lafayette was escorted into the capitol, passed b 

through the rotunda, and entered the Tent of ;! 

Washington. Here he was met by the mayor, s 

and other authorities, officers, clergy, &c., &c. J 

In the course of his reply to an address from \ 

the mayor, full of fine feeling, the general s 

^ said : — J 

> " Among the circumstances of my life to s 

i which you have been pleased to allude, none '< 

s can afford me such dear recollections as my <; 

^ having been early adopted as an American (j 

\ soldier ; so there is not a circumstance of my ^ 

? reception in which I take so much pride, as in ^ 

sharing those honors with my beloved com- < 

panions in arms. ^ 

" Happy I am to feel that the marks of affdc- i 

lion and esteem bestowed on me, bear testi- j 

mony to my perseverance in the American ) 

principles I received under the tent of Wash- \ 

ington, and of which I shall, to my latest breath, < 

prove myself a devoted disciple. j 

" I beg you, Mr. Mayor, and the gentlemer ^ 

of the Corporation, to accept my respectful ac« j 



< 

i; LAFAYETTE. 279 

^ knowledgements to you and to the citizens of 

;, Washington." 

■; After the customary introductions, the gen- 

J eral, accompanied by the mayor, and attended 

^ by General Brown, and Commodore Tingey, 

> proceeded to the President's house, where the 

s President advanced to him, and gave him a 

^ cordial and affectionate reception. 
< The interview was a most impressive one, 

'i surrounded as he was by all the members ol 

\ the cabinet, and a large number of the officers 

\ of the army and navy, who waited to welcome 

J one of the nation's benefactors. 
i It rarely happens that official robes and mil- 

J itary armor find a more fitting occasion for dis- 

l play. It is meet they should bow to disinter- 

i ested benevolence. 



tesies, the general took his leave, and retired to 



1 



After a few minutes of interchanofe of cour- ^ 

J his quarters at Gadsby's hotel. > 

f Lafayette passed two or three days in Wash- 1^ 

/ ington, visiting President Monroe again, as also s 

I the Secretaries of State, of the Treasury, and < 

;> of War, and Maj or-General Brown of the United < 

I States Army. \ 

I On Thursday, the 15th of October, the gen- \ 



\ ?ral rode over to Georgetown, and Friday, by \ 






I: 



280 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

invitation, he visited the Navy Yard, and on 
Saturday proceeded on his visit to Alexandria 
and Yorktown. At Alexandria, he was re- 
ceived by the mayor, the Common Council, his 
brother masons and others. In the evening, 
the public buildings and many private houses 
were brilliantly illuminated. On the Sabbath, 
General Lafayette proceeded to Mount Vernon, 



J, and visited the tomb of Washington, his revered ^ 

^ father and friend. While here, he was pre- ;! 

\ sented, by Mr. Custis, with a ring containing a J 

i portion of the hair of the sainted hero, together J 

^ with the masonic sash and jewel formerly be- ? 

^ longing to the great mason. In the course of \ 

^ ' a very eloquent address to the general on this \ 

i occasion, Mr. Custis said : " Our fathers wit- j 

;« nessed the dawn of your glory, partook of its j 

j meridian splendor ; and oh, let their children j 

\ enjoy the benign radiance of your setting sun. 

^ And when it shall sink in the horizon of na- 

\ ture, here, here, with pious duty, we will form 

^ your sepulchre ; and, united in death as in life, ! 

; by the side of the great chief you will rest in j 

peace, till the last trump awakes the slumbering t 

world, and calls your virtues to their great re- ! 

ward. j 

" The joyous shouts of millions of freemen j 



LAFAYETTE. 281 



I hailed your returning foot-print on our sands s 

I The arms of millions are opened wide to take \ 

} you to their grateful hearts; and the prayers of i 

I millions ascend to the throne of the Eternal, j 

/ that the choicest blessings of Heaven may cheer \ 

\ the latest days of Lafayette." \ 

General Lafayette, after the sublime scenes \ 

{ at Washington and vicinity, proceeded down \ 

j , the Potomac, by special invitation, to visit York- ) 

] town, Williamsburg, Norfolk, Petersburg and {> 

\ Richmond. The general left Richmond, No- | 

j vember 2d, on a visit to his illustrious friend, < 

^ Mr. Jefferson, and arrived at Monticello on |i 

\ Thursday, November 4th, when he was received ^ 

\ by Mr. Jefferson, in a most feeling manner. J 

j They flew into each other's arms by a most *> 

'I cordial impulse, and remained locked in silent ) 

I embrace for several minutes before their feel- J 

J ings could find utterance. v 

\ Lafayette passed a week at Monticello, to \ 

^ enjoy the repose of that beautiful seat, under \ 

^' the courteous hospitalities of his beloved friend, ^ 

\ Jefferson. \ 

\ From here the general left, with regret, i 

I on his return to Washington, where he ar- \ 

?, rived on Tuesday, the 23d day of November ) 

\ While here, a vote of the Senate was passed, 




J 2S2 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. J 

i inviting him to take a seat as one of their body < 

J to which he consented, and on entering the J 

Senate Chamber, he was received with that \ 

august body standing. ? 

During his stay in Washington at this time, s 

a bill passed both houses of Congress, granting J 

\ the general 200,000 dollars, and an entire -I 

^ township of land, to be located on any of the ^ 

^ public lands that remain unsold. \ 

J General Lafayette commenced his tour from \ 

> Washington through the Southern and West- ^ 

^ ern States, about the 1st of March. In his j 



count of this whole great tour; suffice it to 



^' say that the same military parades, civic feasts, 

I cordial and affectionate addresses, triumphal 

arches and soldiers' tears, greeted Lafayette 



< course, he visited the principal towns in the s 

< States of North and South Carolina, Georgia. ^ 
^ Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee ^ 
J Missouri, Kentucky, Illinois and Ohio. ^ 



He visited Pittsburg, and returned to Albany > 



^ by way of Buffalo. From Albany he proceeded 

s directly to Boston, where he arrived on the 16th I 

j of June. \ 

? The compiler regrets that the limits of this ? 

> work will not permit him to give a detailed ac- \ 



LAFAYETTE. 283 



1 



? throughout a distance of more than 4000 5 

J miles. s 

> These were not the momentary triumphs of i 

s a conqueror, fresh from the field of carnage, { 

^ with blood-stained armor, and the echoing air \ 

\ of the stirring drum-beat ; but the spontaneous \ 

<! outpouring of the hearts of other generations, '^ 

? who rise up to bless the patriot hero and bene- I 

^ factor of their country, who took their fathers 5 

;. by the hand, and was ready to lay down his J 

^ life for their sake, and when he had given ^ 

J them an exalted rank among the nations of the \ 

J earth, laid his laurels at their feet, and left ^ 

^ them to the enjoyments of freedom, happiness jl 

j and honor. s 

J More than 3000 miles of the western tour \ 

^ of Lafayette was a pathless wilderness at the I 

) close of the revolution ; now they can boast of ^ 

\ nearly a dozen states, dotted all over with a ? 

< free, virtuous, and intelligent population. J 

j The sublime realities of this whole scene, I 

\ when taken collectively, surpass the powers } 

I of pen or pencil. Altogether, it combines to 5 

i make the history of Lafayette the most remark- I 

able, save that of Washington, on record. ^^ 

Time cannot dim the recollection of, or the ^ 



* i 



! 



284 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 



vast obligation to which we are under to, the 
great patriot, Lafayette. 

After the general had made a complete tour 
through the United States, being received 
everywhere with the highest marks of grati- 
tude which a free people could bestow, he 
sailed again for his native country, on the 7th 
of September, 1825, in a ship fitted out by gov- 
ernment for that purpose, and called the Bran 
dywine, in honor of his bravery in that memor- 
able battle. He had a pleasant voyage, ana j 
arrived again in safety, the following month, i, 
in his own dear France ; when he retired to J 
the sweet fields of La Grange, where, during ? 
the agricultural months, he spent his time in J 
directing the labors of his farm. I 

Lafayette passed the winters in Paris, and, J 

during his stay there, in 1834, in riding for ^ 

exercise, he exposed himself too much to the J 

sudden changes of atmosphere, by which he 
took a sudden cold, and through which disease 
gave strong battle with the aged hero. Doc- 
tor Giron, with other eminent physicians, 
did all that the profession could do, but the 
aged general had not constitution enough to 
bear him through. He lingered along a few 
weeks, without much apparent suffering 



LAFAYETTE. 285 

wlien his eyes turned upwards from a world 
for which he had done so much, to the gates 
of that heavenly heritage, the glory and enjoy- 
"Qents of which we trust he is in full partici- 
* ation. 

Thus set the sun of one of the most remark* 
Able heroes of modem times. 



I . I 



DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 



When, in the course of human events, it 
becomes necessary for one people to dissolve 



of the earth, the separate and equal station to 



I the political bands which have connected them ? 

^ with another, and to assume, among the powers ^ 



j which the laws of nature and of nature's God < 

J entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions < 

\ of mankind requires that they should declare (^ 

\ the causes which impel them to the separation. J 

I We hold these truths to be self-evident : that ^ 

\ all men are created equal ; that they are en- ^ 

/ dowed by their Creator with certain unaliena- \ 

^ ble rights ; that among these are life, liberty ^ 

j and the pursuit of happiness; that, to secure 1; 

\ these rights, governments are instituted among > 

S men, > leriving their just powers from the con- J 

[ sent of the governed ; and that, whenever any j 

form of government becomes destructive of ^ 

these ends, it is the right of the people to alter j 

or abolish it, and to institute new government, i 



DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 287 < 

laying its foundations on such principles, and I 
organizing its powers in such form, as to them 
I shall seem most likely to effect their safety and 
^ happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that 
I governments long established should not be 
^ changed for light and transient causes ; and, 

<> accordingly, all experience hath shown that ^ 

^ mankind are more disposed to suffer, while ;; 

\ evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by J 

^ abolishing the forms to which they are accus- <', 

i tomed. But when a long train of abuses and I; 

> usurpations, pursuing invariably the same ob- \ 

J ject, evinces a design to reduce them under [> 

'^ . absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their \ 

;> duty, to throw off such government, and to ;; 

^ provide new guards for their future security. J; 

Such has been the patient sufferance of the \ 

colonies, and such is now the necessity which ''? 

constrains them to alter their former systems of ^ 

government. The history of the present king \ 

of Great Britain is a history of repeated inju- ^ 

ri(!S and usurpations, all having in direct object \ 

the establishment of an absolute tyranny over \ 

these states. To prove this, let facts be sub- \ 

mitted to a candid world. \ 

f He has refused his assent to laws the most J 

J wholesome and necessary for the public good. \ 



2S8 DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

I He has forbidden his governors to pass laws 



J of immediate and pressing importance, unless s 

j suspended in their operations till his assent J 

\ should be obtained ; and, when so suspended, Ij 

he has utterly neglected to attend to them. ;> 

He has refused to pass other laws for the ac- j 

commodation of large districts of people, unless ^ 

those people would relinquish the right of J 

representation in the legislature — a right ? 

inestimable to them, and formidable to tyrants J 

only. ... I 

He has called together legislative bodies a < 

places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from < 

the repository of their public records, for the ^ 

sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance 
with his measures. 

He has dissolved representative houses re- 
peatedly, for opposing, with manly firmness 
his invasions on the rights of the people. 

He has refused, for a long time after such 
dissolutions, to cause others to be elected ; 
> whereby the legislative powers, incapable of 

^ annihilation, have returned to the people at 

^ large for their exercise ; the state remaining, in 

J the mean time, exposed to all the dangers of 

< invasion from without and convulsions within. 

\ He has endeavored to prevent the population 




, DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 289 

of these states ; for that purpose obstructing the 

laws of naturalization of foreigners, refusing to \ 

pass others to encourage their migration thither, \ 

and raising the conditions of new appropriations \ 

of lands. J 

He has obstructed the administration of jus- J 

tice, by refusing his assent to laws for estab- \ 

? lishing judiciary powers. (• 

\ He has made judges dependent on his will \ 

\ alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the ) 

< amount and payment of their salaries. ^ 

^ He has erected a multitude of new offices, ] 

\ and sent hither swarms of officers to harass our \ 

I people, and eat out their substance. f 

) He has kept among us in time of peace, !• 

? standing armies, without the consent of our i 

s legislatures. \ 

^ He has affected to render the military inde- \ 

), pendent of, and superior to, the civil power. < 

\ He has combined with others to subject us \ 

\ to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and \ 

^ unacknowledged by our laws ; giving his assent \ 

^ to their acts of pretended legislation, s 

j For quartering large bodies of armed troops 

^ among us ; 

J For protecting them, by a mock trial, from 



\ 290 DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

J punishment for any murders which they shoula 

J commit on the inhabitants of these states ; s 

J For cutting off our trade with all parts of the J 

^ world ; J 

\ For imposing taxes on us without our con- \ 

I sent; !; 

s For depriving us, in many cases, of the ben- s 

^ efit of trial by jury. s 

^ For transporting us beyond seas to be tried <; 

'<; for pretended offences : s 

^ For abolishing the free system of English J 

> laws in a neighboring province, establishing J 

;! therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging '^ 

5 its boundaries so as to render it at once an ex- > 

^ ample and fit instrument for introducing the <; 

/ same absolute rule into these colonies ; I', 

^ For taking away our charters, abolishing our ,> 

^ most valuable laws, and altering, fundamentally, ^ 

< the forms of our governments ; \ 
^ For suspending our own legislatures, and \, 
\ declaring themselves invested with power to '^ 
\ legislate for us in all cases whatsoever. \ 
^ He has abdicated government here by de- \ 
\ daring us out of his protection, and waging war j 

< against us. ] 

< He has plundered our seas, ravaged our j 



r 



DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 291 i 



coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives 
of our people. 

He is, at this time, transporting large armies 
of foreign mercenaries to complete the works of 
death, desolation, and tyranny, with circum- 
stances of cruelty and perfidy scarcely paral- 
leled in the most barbarous ages, and totally \ 
unworthy the head of a civilized nation. \ 

He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken J 

captive on the high seas, to bear arms against 
their country, to become the executioners of 
their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves 
by their hands. 

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst 
us, and has endeavored to bring on the in- 
habitants of our frontiers the merciless Indian ] 
savages, whose known rule of warfare is an \ 
undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, !; 
and conditions. l- 

In every stage of these oppressions, we have > 

petitioned for redress in the most humble terms. ;! 

Our repeated petitions have been answered only J 

by repeated injury. A prince, whose character ^ 

is thus marked by every act which may de '^ 

fine a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free \ 

people. \ 

Nor have we been wanting in attentions ^ 

19 \ 



292 DECLARATION OF INDEVtNDENCE. 

to our British brethren. We have ■ 
'^ them, from time to time, of the attempts, by ^ 



> 

'\ to our British brethren. We have warned s 



5 their legislature, to extend an unwarrantable 

<; iurisdiction over us. We have reminded them 

> of the circumstances of our emigration and set- 



\ tlement here. We have appealed to their ^ 

s native justice and magnanimity, and we have \ 

J conjured them, by the ties of our common kin- \ 

< dred, to disavow these usurpations, which would < 

\ inevitably interrupt our connections and corre- J 

J spondence. They, too, have been deaf to the 1^ 

J voiceof justice and of consanguinity. We must, ,s 

} therefore, acquiesce in the necessity which de- ^ 

) nounces our separation, and hold them, as we \ 

{ hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in ^ 

j peace, friends. ^ 

We, therefore, the Representatives of the ? 

United States of America, in General Congress ^ 

assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of \ 

the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, s 

in the name and by the authority of the good \ 

people of these colonies, solemnly publish and J 

declare that these United Colonies are, and of | 

right ought to be, free and independent states , J 

that they are absolved from all allegiance to the j 
British crown, and that all political connection 
Detween them and the state of Great Britain is 



DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 



293 



and ought to be, totally dissolved ; and that, as 
free and independent states, they have full 
power to levy war, conclude peace, contract 
alliances, establish commerce, and do all other 
acts and things which independent states may 
of right do. And, for the support of this dec- 
laration, with a firm reliance on the protection 
of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to 
each other our lives, our fortunes, and our 
sacred honor. 

The foregoing declaration was, by order of 
Congress, engrossed, and signed by the follow- 
ing members : — 

JOHN HANCOCK. 



New Hampshire. 
JOSIAH BARTLETT, 
WILLIAM WHIPPLE, 
MATTHEW THORNTON. 

Massachusetts 
SAMUEL ADAMS, 
JOHN ADAMS, 
ROBERT TREAT PAINE, 
ELBRIDGE GERRY. 
Rhode Island. 
STEPHEN HOPKINS, 
WILLIAM ELLERY. 

Connecticut. 
ROGER SHERMAN, 
SAMUEL HUNTINGTON, 
WILLIAM WILLIAMS, 



OLIVER WOLCOTT. 

New York. 
WILLIAM FLOYD, 
PHILIP LIVINGSTON, 
FRANCIS LEWIS, 
LEWIS MORRIS, 

New Jersey. 
RICHARD STOCKTON, 
JOHN WITHERSPOON, 
FRANCIS HOPKINSON, 
JOHN HART, 
ABRAHAM CLARK. 
Pennsylvania. 
ROBERT MORRIS, 
BENJAMIN RUSH, 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



294 



DECLARATION OF mDEPENDENCE. 



JOHN ISIORTON, 
GEORGE CLYMER, 
JAMES SMITH, 
GEORGE TAYLOR, 
JAMES WILSON, 
GEORGE ROSS. 

Delatcare. 
C^SAR RODNEY, 
GEORGE READ, 
THOMAS M'KEAN. 

Maryland. 
SARroEL CHASE, 
WILLIAM PACA, 
THOMAS STONE, 
CHARLES CARROLL, of Car- 
rollton, 
Virginia. 
GEORGE WYTHE, 
RICHARD HENRY LEE, 



THOINIAS JEFFERSOW, 
BENJAMIN HARRISON, 
TH03IAS NELSON, Jr., 
FRANCIS LIGHTFOOT I.E^ 
CARTER BPtAXTON. 

North Carolitia, 
WILLIAM HOOPER, 
JOSEPH HEWES, 
JOHN PENN. 

South Carolina. 
EDWARD RUTLEDGE, 
THOMAS HEY WARD, Ja. 
THOMAS LYNCH, Jr. 
ARTHUR IMIDDLETON. 

Georgia. 
BUTTON GWINNETT, 
LYMAN HALL, 
GEORGE WALTON. 




-----w---^.-.-\ 



CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. 



^ We, the People of the United States, in order ^ 

5 to form a more perfect union, establish jus ^ 

;; tice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide f 07 i> 

^ the common defence, promote the general ^ 

ij welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty J 

^ to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain \ 

^ and establish this Constitution for the United ^ 

\ States of America. > 

'I ARTICLE I. \ 

'f Sect. I. — All legislative powers herein ^ 

\ granted shall be vested in a Congress of the < 

)> United States, which shall consist of a Senate ^ 

\ and House of Representatives. j 

\ Sect. II. — -1. The House of Representa- ^f 

I lives shall be composed of members chosen 5 

I every second year, by the people of the several | 

S states ; and the electors in each state shall have \ 

;! the qualifications requisite for electors of the ^ 

s most numerous branch of the state legislatuie \ 



< 296 CONSTITUTION. 



^ 2. No person shall be a representative who ; 

>' shall not have attained the age of twenty-five \ 

\ years, and been seven years a citizen of the 

J United States, and who shall not, when elected, i 

< be an inhabitant of the state in which he shall \ 
'< be chosen. J 
i 3. Representatives and direct taxes shall be s 
^ apportioned among the several states which may \ 
'f be included within this Union, according to j 
J their respective numbers, which shall be deter- j 
J mined by adding to the whole number of free ^ 
\ persons, including those bound to service for a I 
J term of years, and excluding Indians not taxed, < 
j three fifths of all other persons. The actual <, 
I enumeration shall be made within three years J 
s after the first meeting of the Congress of the Ij 
J United States, and within every subsequent > 
i term of ten years, in such manner as they shall J 
j by law direct. The number of representatives s 
I shall not exceed one for every thirty thousand, ^ 
i but each state shall have at least one represen- 'i 
I tative ; and until such enumeration shall bo \ 

< made, the state of Ne2V Hampshire shall be en- I 
f titled to choose three ; Massachusetts, eight , ;> 
J Rhode Island and Provideiice Plantations, one ; \ 
'> Connecticut, five ; New York, six ; New Jersey, f^ 
;> lour; Pennsylvania, eight; Delaware^ one J 



> CONSTITUTION. 297 



s Maryland, six ; Virginia, ten ; North Carolina, j 

s five ;' South Carolina, five ; Georgia, three. j 

i 4. When vacancies happen in the representa- k 

\ tion from any state, the executive authority j 

J thereof shall issue writs of election to fill such [ 



'. vacancies. ) 

s 5. The House ofRepresentatives shall choose j 

] their speaker and other officers, and shall have <! 

\ the sole power of impeachment. j 

J Sect. III. — 1. The Senate of the United \ 

\ States shall be composed of two senators from I; 

\ each state, chosen by the legislature thereof, for > 

\ six years; and each senator shall have one s 

< vote. ] 

^ 2. Immediately after they shall be assembled j 

^ in consequence of the first election, they shall s 

! be divided, as equally as may be, into three J 

^ classes. The seats of the senators of the first < 

^ class shall be vacated at the expiration of the '^ 

I second year, of the second class at the expira- '} 



tion of the fourth year, and the third class at J 

the expiration of the sixth year, so that one J 

third may be chosen every second year ; and if \ 

vacancies happen by resignation or otherwise, i 

during the recess of the legislature of any j 

state, the executive thereof may make tempo- j 

rary appointments until the next meeting of the \ 



.^ 



298 CONSTITUTIOxN. 5 

legislature, which shall then fill such vacaD' <, 

^ cies. I 

s 3. No person shall be a senator who shall j 

J not have attained the age of thirty years, and j 

i been nine years a citizen of the United States, \ 

j and who shall not, when elected, be an inhabi- \ 

s tant of that state for which he shall be chosen. i 

I 4. The Vice-President of the United States ,j 

j shall be President of the Senate, but shall have j 

i no vote unless they be e<]ually divided. j 

^ 5, The Senate shall choose their other offi- s 

\ cers, and also a president pro tempore in the ;; 

> absence of the Vice-President, or when he j 

< shall exercise the office of President of the I; 
J United States. I 
^ 6. The Senate shall have the sole power to \ 
^ try all impeachments. When sitting for that 5 
\ purpose, they shall be on oath or affirmation. < 
I When the President of the United States is J 

< tried, the Chief Justice shall preside ; and no > 
\ person shall be convicted without the concur ""^ 
J rence of two thirds of the members present. J 
\ 7. Judgment, in cases of impeachment, shall < 
s not extend further than to removal from office, < 

< and disqualification to hold and enjoy any office \ 
\ of honor, trust, or profit under the United ^ 
I States; but the party convicted shall, never:he« ^ 



CONSTITUTION. 299 



iCss, be liable and subject to indictment, trial, 
judgment and punishment according to law. 
Sect. IV. — 1. The times, places, and man- 
J ner of holding elections for senators and repre- 

sentatives shall be prescribed in each state by 
the legislature thereof; but the Congress may, 
at any time, by law, make or alter such regula- 
tions, except as to the places of choosing sena- 
ators. 

< 2. The Confess shall assemble at least 
s once in eveVy year : and such meeting shall be 
^ on the first Monday in December, unless they 
5 shall by law appoint a different day. 

^ Sect. V. — 1. Each house shall be judge 

< of the elections, returns, and qualifications of 
J its own members ; and a majority of each shall 
J constitute a quorum to do business ; but a 
i smaller number may adjourn from day to day, 
5 and may be authorized to compel the attend- 
\ ance of absent members, in such manner, and 
\ under such penalties, as each house may pro- 



l vide. (> 

^ 2. Each house may determine the rules of < 

j its proceedings, punish its members for disor- \ 

/ derly behavior, and, with the concurrence of J 

J two thirds, expel a member. < 

J 3. Each house shall keep a journal of ita \ 



300 CONSTITUTION. 



services, to be ascertained by law, and paid 
out of the treasury of the United States. They 
shall, in all cases, except treason, felony, and 
breach of the peace, be privileged from arrest, 
during their attendance at the session of their 
respective houses, and in going to, or returning 
from the same ; and for any speech or debate 
< in either house, they shall not be questioned in 

/ any other place. 

\ 2. No senator or representative shall, during 

'> the time for which he was elected, be appointed 

5 to any civil office under the authority of the 

United States, which shall have been created 
or the emoluments whereof shall have been in« 



proceedings, and from time to time publish the < 

same, excepting such parts as may, in their s 

judgment, require secrecy; and the yeas and < 

nays of the members of either house on any \ 

question shall, at the desire of one fifth of those J 

present, be entered on the journal. '} 

4. Neither house, during the session of Con- s 

gress, shall, without the consent of the other, ^ 

adjourn for more than three days, nor to any ^ 

other place than that in which the two houses i 

shall be sittinor. * ;! 

Sect. VI. — 1. The senators and representa- \, 

lives shall receive a compensation for their ;, 



<[ CONSTITUTION. 301 I 

\ creased, during such time ; and no person ? 

^ holding any office under the United States j 

;J shall be a member of either house, during his J 

I continuance in office. I 

<J Sect. VII. — 1. All bills for raising reve- \ 

\ nue shall originate in the House of Representa- ^ 

;• tives ; but the Senate may propose or concur j 

^ with amendments, as on other bills. > 

\ 2. Every bill, which shall have passed the ^ 

I House of Representatives and the Senate, shall, s 

before it 'become a law, be presented to the ^ 

President of the United States ; if he approve, > 

he shall sign it ; but if not, he shall return it, 1; 

with his objections, to that house in which it > 

;. shall have originated, who shall enter the ob- < 

< jections at large on their journal, and proceed j 

$ to reconsider it. If, after such reconsideration, J 

^ two thirds of that house shall agree to pass the < 

5 bill, it shall be sent, together with the objec- \ 

i tions, to the other house, and if approved by i 

I two thirds of that house, it shall become a law. i^ 

But in all such cases, the votes of both houses ;] 

shall be determined by yeas and nays ; and the j 

names of the persons voting for and against the \ 

bill shall be entered on the journals of each > 

house respectively. If any bill shall not be ^ 

returned by the President within ten daya ^ 



302 CONSTITUTION. 



j; (Sundays excepted) after it shall have been j 

J presented to him, the ^ same shall be a law, in > 

i like manner as if he had signed it, unless Con- ^ 

\ gress. by their adjournment, prevent its return; \ 

;; in which case it shall not be a law. \ 

i 3. Every order, resolution, or vote to which I; 

i the concurrence of the Senate and House of ^ 

> Representatives may be necessary, (except on a s 
p question of adjournment,) shall be presented to \ 
I the President of the United States ; and before ^ 
i the same shall take effect, shall be a|5proved by J 
< him, or being disapproved by him, shall be re- <i 
<* passed by two thirds of the Senate and House ^ 
\ of Repvesentatives, according to the rules and j 
\ limitations prescribed in the case of a bill. > 
I Sect. VIII. — The Congress shall have < 
s power — J 
J 1. To lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts, >, 
I and excises ; to pay the debts and provide for J 
|; the common defence and general welfare of the i 

> United States ; but all duties, imposts and ex- '^ 
^} cises shall be uniform throughout the United \ 
s States : 

J 2. To borrow money on the credit of the 

\ United States : ; 

3. To regulate commerce with foreign na-* j 



.---^w-_^^.-w-_-^-^-'.^^--.-.-. 



L 



CONSTITUTION. 303 



tions and among the several states, and with 



8. To promote the progress of science and 
useful arts, by securing for limited times, to 
authors and inventors, the exclusive right to their 



1 



\ Indian tribes : ;; 

\ 4. To establish a uniform rule of naturaliza- j 

\ tion, and uniform laws on the subject of bank- I; 



\ ruptcies, throughout the United States : j 

\ 5. To coin money, regulate the value thereof \ 

^ and of foreiofn coin, and fix the standard of < 

•^ weights and measures : j 

I 6. To provide for the punishment of coun- ^ 

<; terfeiting the securities and current coin of the > 

!> United Stales : s 

\ 7. To establish post offices and post roads : J 

s 



<; auuiors anu inveniors, me excmsive rigni lo men ^ 

} respective writings and discoveries : J 

5 9. To constitute tribunals inferior to the s 

s supreme court: ^ 

^ 10. To define and punish piracies and fel- 1; 

? onies committed on the high seas, and oflfences ^ 

j against the law of nations : ^ 

J 11. To declare war, grant letters of marque ^ 

I and reprisal, and make rules concerning cap- ;] 

;, tures on land and water : ( 

{ 12. To raise and support armies ; but no ? 



appropriation of money to that use shall be for > 

a longer term than two years : \ 



304 CONSTITUTION. 



13. To provide and maintain a na\'y : > 

14. To make rules for the government and 1; 
regulation of the land and naval forces : ^ 

15. To provide for calling forth the militia J 
to execute the laws of the Union, suppress in- '"; 
surrections, and repel invasions : 5; 

16. To provide for organizing, arming, and > 
disciplining the militia, and for governing such J 
part of them as may be employed in the ser- j 
vice of the United States, reserving to the states < 
respectively the appointment of the officers, and ^ 
the authority of training the militia, according i 
to the discipline prescribed by Congress: \ 

17. To exercise exclusive legislation, in all } 
cases whatsoever, over such district (not exceed- s 
ing ten miles square) as may, by cession of par- J 
ticular states, and the acceptance of Congress, j 
become the seat of government of the United \ 
States, and to exercise like authority over all > 
places purchased by the consent of the legisla- ^ 
ture of the state in which the same shall be, for \ 
the erection of forts, magazines, arsenals, dock- j 
yards, and other needful buildings : And, I; 

IS. To make all laws which shall be neces- J 

sary and proper for carrying into execution the > 
foregoing powers, and all other powers vested 
by this constitution in the goverr/ment of tho 



CONSTITUTION. 305 S 

United States, or in any department or officer l 

thereof. j 

Sect. IX. — 1. The migration or importation ) 

of such persons as any of the stites now exist- }^ 

ing shall think proper to admit, shall not be ] 

prohibited by the Congress prior to the year \ 

one thousand eight hundred and eight ; but a J 

tax or duty may be imposed ©n such impor- /^ 

tation, not exceeding ten dollars for each per- '^ 

son. ^ 
i 2. The privilege of the writ of habeas corpus 
? shall not be suspended, unless when, in cases 
^ of rebellion or invasion, the public safety may 
^ require it. 

J 3. No bill of attainder, or ex post facto law, 

< shall be passed. ^ 

I 4. No capitation or other direct tax shall be < 

\ laid, unless in proportion to the census or enu- >, 

\ meration herein before directed to be taken. j; 

i 5. No tax or duty shall be laid on articles ^ 

J exported from any state. No preference shall >^ 

s be given, by any regulation of commerce or 'J 

J revenue, to the ports of one state over those of s 

\ another ; nor shall vessels bound to or from one > 

5 state be obliged to enter, clear, or pay duties in ^ 

^ another. 

6. No money sbAl! be drawi: from the trea- 



306 CONSTITUTION. 



i sury, but in consequence of appropriations made ?, 

^ by law ; and a regular statement and account of ^ 

J the receipts and expenditures of all public money '/ 

^, shall be published from time to time. s 

i] 7. No title of nobility shall be granted by j 

^^ the United States ; and no person holding any <; 

^ office of profit or trust under them, shall, with- \ 

I out the consent of the Congress, accept of any j 

■; present, emolument, office, or title of any kind J 

> whatever, from any king, prince or foreign '.' 
'^ state. \ 
^ Sect. X. — 1. No state shall enter into any I; 

> treaty, alliance, or confederation ; grant letters J 

< of marque and reprisal ; coin money ; emit bills { 

< of credit ; make anything but gold and silver s 
J coin a tender in payment of debts ; pass any '< 
? bill of attainder, ex post facto law, or law im- <; 
\ pairing the obligation of contracts ; or grant any J 
J title of nobility. ^| 
s 2. No state shall, without the consent of s 



J Congress, lay any imposts or duties on importa '^ 

^ or exports, except what may be absolutely Jl 

i necessary for executing its inspection laws; ^ 

j and the net produce of all duties and imposts ^ 

j laid by any state on imports or exports, shall be ;; 

s for the use of the treasury of the United States ; ^ 

I and all such laws shall be subject to the revision \ 



J CONSTITUTION. 307 j 

I and control of the Congress. No state shall, \ 

I without the consent of Congress, lay any duty ] 

I on tonnage, keep troops or ships of war in time j 

<; of peace, enter into any agreement or compact \ 

^ with another state or with a foreign power, or \ 

/ engage in war, unless actually invaded, or in \ 

{ such imminent danger as will not admit of J 

i; delay. J 

$ ARTICLE II. .': 

<; Sect. I. — 1. The executive power shall be \ 

J vested in a President of the United States of J 

J America. He shall hold his office during the J 

J term of four years, and, together with the > 

> Vice-President, chosen for the same term, be i 
< elected as follows : < 

> 2. Each state shall appoint, in such manner I 
_^ as the legislature thereof may direct, a number < 

> of electors, equal to the whole number o^ sena- I 
^ tors and representatives to which the state may ? 
,1 be entitled in the Congress; but no senator or > 
'^ representative, or person holding an office of \ 
I trust or profit under the United States, shall be ? 
''] appointed an elector. c 
5 3. [Annulled. See Amendments, art. 12.] '( 



4. The Congress may determine the time 
of choosing the electors, and the day on which 
20 



308 CONSTITUTION. J 

they shall give their votes ; which day shall b© ^ 

the same throughout the United Stales. s 

5. No person, except a natural-born citizen, j 
or a citizen of the United States at the time of I 
the adoption of this constitution, shall be eligi- J 
ble to the office of President ; neither shall any ! 
person be eligible to that office, who shall not ^ 
have attained the age of thirty-five years, and j 
been fourteen years a resident within the United \ 
States. \ 

6. In case of the removal of the President I; 
from office, or of his death, resignation, or ina- J 
bility to discharge the powers and duties of ^. 

> said office, the same shall devolve on the Vice- s 

^ President ; and the Congress may by law pro- I 

s vide for the case of removal, death, resignation, <; 

< or inability, both of the President and Vice- > 

< President, declaring what officer shall then act ? 
? as President, and such officer shall act accord- > 
j ingly, until the disability be removed, or a ^' 
^ President shall be elected. ^ 
^ 7. The President shall, at stated times, re- § 

< ceive for his services a compensation which [j 
shall neither be increased nor diminished during J 
the period for which he shall have been elec- I 
ted ; and he shall not receive within that per'od, > 



-.->.-^j-_-%.->.-. 



CONSTITUTION. 309 

any other emolument from the United States, or 
any of them. 

8. Before he enter on the execution of his 
office, he shall take the following oath or affir- 
mation : — 

" I do solemnly swear, (or affirm) that I will 



^ faithfully execute the office of President of the s 

i United States, and will, to the best of my abil- \ 

^ ity, preserve, protect and defend the constitu- J 

I tion of the United States." \ 

\ Sect. II. — 1. The President shall be com- [> 

I mander-in-chief of the army and navy of the ^ 

^ United States, and of the militia of the sev- s 

eral states, when called into the actual service J; 

of the United States : he may require the opin- s 

ion, in writing, of the principal officer in each 1; 

J of the executive departments, upon any subject 

j relating to the duties of their respective offices ; 

< and he shall have power to grant reprieves and 

> pardons for offences against the United States, 

j except in cases of impeachment. 

^ 2. He shall have power, by and with the ad- 

\ vice and consent of the Senate, to make treaties, 

provided two thirds of the senators present con- 
cur ; and he shall nominate, and by and with the 
advice and consent of the Senate, shall appoint 
ambassadors, other public ministers and consuls 



310 CONSTITUTION. ] 



judges of the supreme court, and all other ofli* 



I cers of the United States, whose appointments j 

< are not herein otherwise provided for, and which "> 

^ shall be established by law. But the Congress ;> 

^ may, by law, vest the appointment of such infe- \ 

I rior officers as they think proper in the Presi- ;; 

I dent alone, in the courts of law, or in the heads ^ 

s of departments. J 

J 3. The President shall have power to fill up J 

? all vacancies that may happen during the re- ^ 

$ cess of the Senate, by granting commissions, <; 

^ which shall expire at the end of their next ses- <; 

j sion. \ 

^ Sect. III. — He shall, from time to time, ^ 

<■ give to the Congress information of the state of (, 

\ the Union, and recommend to their considera- ^ 

I tion such measures as he shall judge necessary ^ 

J and expedient ; he may, on extraordinary occa- ^ 

j sions, convene both houses, or either of them, b 

i and in case of disagreement between them with j 

\ respect to the time of adjournment, he may < 

S adjourn them to such time as he shall think i 

proper ; he shall receive ambassadors, and other ^ 

public ministers; he shall take care that the f 

laws be faithfully executed ; and shall commis* J 

sion all the officers of the United States. ^ 

Sect. IV. — The President, Vice-President < 



< CONSTITUTION. 311 



;> and all civil officers of the United States, shall 

J be removed from ofEce on impeachment for, 

\ and conviction of, treason, bribery, or other 

J high crimes and misdemeanors. 

I ARTICLE III. 

J Sect. I. — The judicial power of the United 

States shall be vested in one supreme court, \ 

and in such inferior courts as the Congress may, ^ 

from time to time, ordain and establish. The s 

judges, both of the supreme and inferior courts, !; 

shall hold their offices during good behavior, J 

and shall, at stated times, receive for their ser- .; 

vices a compensation which shall not be dimin- J 

ished during their continuance in office. j 

Sect. II. — 1. The judicial power shall extend \ 

to all cases in law and equity arising under this ] 

constitution, the laws of the United States, and ^ 
treaties made, or which shall be made, under 

their authority ; to all cases affecting ambassa- > 

dors, and other public ministers and consuls ; ^ 

to all cases of admiralty and maritime jurisdic- s 

tion ; to controversies to which the United ;; 

States shall be a party; to controversies be- J 

tween two or more states ; between a state and \ 



citizens of another state ; between citizens of 
different states ; between citizens of the same 



I 312 CONSTITUTION. 

j State claiming lands under grants of different 

i states, and between a state, or the citizens \ 

I thereof, and foreign states, citizens, or subjects. ^ 

> 2. In all cases affecting ambassadors, othei \ 

'} public ministers and consuls, and those in which ^ 

I a state shall be a party, the supreme court shall ^ 

I have original jurisdiction. In all other cases ^ 

<; before mentioned, the supreme court shall have I 

J appellate jurisdiction, both as to law and fact, < 

'? with such exceptions, and under such regula- J 

I lions, as the Congress shall make. J 

I 3. The trial of all crimes, except in cases of ^ 

i impeachment, shall be by jury ; and such trial 

? shall be held in the state where the said crimes 

i shall have been committed ; but when not com- 



{ mitted within any state, the trial shall be at 

J such a place or places as the Congress may by | 

i law have directed. 1 

\ Sect. III. — 1. Treason against the United j 

J States shall consist only in levying w^ar against } 

j them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving j 

s them aid and comfort. No person shall be 

' convicted of treason, unless on the testimony 1 

5 of two witnesses to the same overt act, or con- } 

5 fessions in open court. I 

2. The Congress shall have power to de- J 
clare the punishment of treason ; but no attain- 



CONSTITUTION. 31J 

der of treason shall work corruption of blood, or 
forfeiture, except during the life of the person 
attainted. 



I ARTICLE IV. 

\ Sect. I — Full faith and credit shall be given • | 

in each state to the public acts, records, and J 

I judicial proceedings of every other state. And i 

( the Congress may, by general laws, prescribe > 

\ the manner in which such acts, records, and ^ 

\ proceedings shall be proved, and the effect \ 

< thereof. i 

\ Sect. II. — 1. The citizens of each state s 

5 shall be entitled to all privileges and immunities \ 

\ of citizens in the several states. j 

2. A person charged in any state with trea- > 

son, felony, or other crime, who shall flee from > 

justice, and be found in another state, shall, I 

on demand of the executive authority of the ;. 

i state from which he fled, be delivered up to be \ 

^ removed to the state having jurisdiction of the | 

^ crime. J 

\ 3. No person held to service or labor in one > 

state, under the laws thereof, escaping into \ 

another, shan, in consequence of any law or % 

regulation therein, be discharged from such J 

service or labor, but shall be delivered up on i, 



] I 



314 CONSTITUTION. 

claim of the party to whom such service or laboi 

may be due. i 

Sect. III. — 1. New states may be admitted \ 

by the Congress into this Union ; but no new I; 

state shall be formed or erected within the juris- s 

diction of any other state; nor any state be J 

formed by the junction of two or more states, or <', 

parts of states, without the consent of the legis- I; 

lature of the states concerned, as well as of the \ 

Congress. ^^ 

2. The Congress shall have power to dis- J 



posed of and make all needful rules and regula- ;; 

tions respecting the territory or other property J 

belonging to the United States ; and nothing in ^ 

this constitution shall be so construed as to ? 

prejudice any claims of the United States, or of i 

any particular state. I 

Sect. IV. — The United States shall guar- I 



«; anty to every state of this Union a republican ? 

J form of government, and shall protect each of '^ 

I them against invasion, and, on application of i 

") the legislature, or of the executive, (when the s 

I legislature cannot be convened,) against domes' ] 

^ tic violence. S 

^ ARTICLE V. 5 

J The Congress, whenever two thirds of both J 

hour.es shall deem it necessary, shall proposfl ? 



CONSTITUTION. 315 



amendments to this constitution, or, on the ap- 



;! plication of the legislature of two thirds of the < 

;; several states, shall call a convention for pro- j 

'I posing amendments, which, in either case, shall ^ 



I be valid to all intents and purposes, as part of ] 

'] this constitution, when ratified by the legisla- J 

I; tures of three fourths of the several states, or by \ 

? conventions in three fourths thereof, as the one 



^ or the other mode of ratification may be pro- ;. 

^ posed by the Congress; provided that no amend- s 

^ ment which may be made prior to the year one J 

thousand eight hundred and eight, shall in any j 

manner afi'ect the first and fourth clauses.in the '^ 

ninth section of the first article ; and that no J 

state, without its consent, shall be deprived of < 

its equal suff'rage in the Senate. > 



i ARTICLE VI. 

i 1. All debts contracted, and engagements J 

i entered into, before the adoption of this consti- < 

i tution, shall be as valid against the United J 

i States under this constitution, as under the con- j' 

j federation. j 

J 2. This constitution, and the laws of the I 

I United States which shall be made in pursu- ;! 

? ance thereof, and all treaties made, or which j 

j shall be made, under the authority of the United I^ 



Done in convention, hy the unanimous consent 



September, in the year of our Lord one thou- 
sand seven hundred and eighty-seven, and of 
the Independence of the United States of 
America the twelfth. In witness whereof, we 
have hereunto subscribed our names. 



\ 316 CONSTITUTION. / 

\ States, shall be the supreme law of the land j / 

^ and the judges in every state shall be bound j 

^ thereby ; anything in the constitution or laws s 

\ of any state to the contrary notwithstanding. \ 

^ 3. The senators and representatives before j 

5 mentioned, and the members of the several j 

I; state legislatures, and all the executive and ju- s 

\ dicial officers, both of the United States and of \ 

> the several states, shall be bound by oath or \ 

^ affirmation to support this constitution j but no \ 

\ religious test shall ever be required as a quali- J 

\ fication to any office or public trust under the { 

\ United States. < 

\ ARTICLE VII. I 

\ The ratification of the conventions of nine 1; 

\ states shall be sufficient for the establishment > 

j of this constitution between the states so rati- s 

fying the same. < 



of the states present, the seventeenth day of ;. 



CONSTITUTION. 



317 



GEORGE WASHINGTON, 

President and Deputy from Virginia. 



New Hampshire. 

JOHN LAKGDON, 
NICHOLAS GILMAN. 

Massachusetts. 

NATHANIEL GORHAM, 
RUFTJS KING. 

Connecticut. 

WM. SAMUEL JOHNSON, 
ROGER SHERMAN. 



Delaware. 

GEORGE READ, 
GUNNING BEDFORD, JR 
JOHN DICKERSON, 
RICHARD BASSET, 
JACOB BROOM. 

Maryland. 

JAMES M' HENRY, 

dan' of ST. T. JENIFER, 

DANIEL CARROLL. 



New York. 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

New Jersey. 

"WILLIAM LIYINQSTON, 
DAVID BREARLY, 
WILLIAM PATTERSON, 
JONATHAN DAYTON. 

Pennsylvania. 

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 
THOMAS MIFFLIN, 
ROBERT MORRIS, 
GEORGE CLYMER, 
THOMAS FITZSIMONS, 
JARED INGERSOLL, 
JAMES WILSON, 
GOUVERNEUR MORRIS. 

Attest, 



Virginia. 

JOHN BLAIR, 
JAMES MADISON, JR. 

North Carolina. 

WILLIAM BLOUNT, 
RICH. DOBBS SPAIGHT, 
HUGH WILLIAMSON. 

South Carolina. 

JOHN RUTLEDGE, 
CHARLES C. PINCKNEY, 
CHARLES PINCKNEY, 
PIERCE BUTLER. 

Georgia. 

WILLIAM FEW, 
ABRAHAM BALDWIN. 

WILLIAM JACKSON, Secretary. 



r 



j 318 AMENDMENTS. 



AMENDMENTS TO THE CONSTITUTION. \ 



Art. I. — Congress shall make no law re- s 

gpecting an establishment of religion, or pro- J 



hibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging <; 

the freedom of speech, or of the press ; or the \ 

right of the people peaceably to assemble and '> 

to petition the government for a redress of I 

> grievances. s 

< Art. II. — A well-regulated militia being ne- ^ 

< cessary for the security of a free state, the right ^ 



of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be ^ 

infringed. ^ 

Art. III. — No soldier shall, in time of peace, < 

be quartered in any house without the consent \ 

of the owner, nor in time of war, but in a man- ^ 

ner to be prescribed by law. \ 

Art. IV. — The right of the people to be ^ 

secure in their persons, houses, papers, and \ 

eiiects, against unreasonable searches and seiz- \ 

ures, shall not be violated ; and no warrants ] 

shall issue but upon probable cause, supported j 

by oath or affirmation, and particularly describ- | 
iug the place to be searched, and the persons 
or things to be seized. 



J AMENDMENTS. 319 ^ 

\ Art. V. — No person shall be held to answer J 

<. for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, un- \ 

? less on a presentment or indictment of a grand ] 

\ 2^rj, except in cases arising in the land or J 

^ naval forces, or in the militia when in actual j 

< service, in time of war or public danger; nor \ 

> shall any person be subject for the same offence ? 

> to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor s 
>^ shall be compelled, in any criminal case, to be J 
s witness against himself, nor be deprived of '*, 

life, liberty, or property, without due pro- ^' 

'^ cess of law; nor shall private property be "> 

\ taken for public use without just compensa- ^ 

^ tion. 'j 

■; Art. YI. — In all criminal prosecutions, the / 

J accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and ^ 

i public trial, by an impartial jury of the state ^ 

\ and district wherein the crime shall have been ;; 

I committed, which district shall have been pre- ^ 

\ viously ascertained by law, and to be informed > 

i of the nature and cause of the accusation ; to be ^ 

f confronted with the witnesses against him ; to ^ 

J . have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses ^ 

j in his favor; and to have the assistance of j 

I counsel for his defence. b 

) Art. YII. — In suits of common law, where J 

^ the value in controversy shall exceed twenty i 

^ 



> 320 AMENDMENTS. | 

\ dollars, the right of trial by jury shall be pre- J 

J served; and no fact tried by a jury shall be j 

otherwise reexamined in any court of the > 

United States than according to the rules of \ 

the common law. s 

Art. VIII. — Excessive bail shall not be re- j; 

quired, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel j 

and unusual punishments inflicted. s 

Art. IX. — The enumeration, in the consti- J 

tution, of certain rights, shall not be construed s 

to deny or disparage others retained by the ^ 

people. ^ 

Art. X. — The powers not delegated to the J 

United States by the constitution, nor prohibited I 

by it to the states, are reserved to the states ^ 

respectively, or to the people. ? 

Art. XI. — The judicial power of the United J. 

States shall not be construed to extend to any j 

suit in law or equity commenced or prosecuted < 

against one of the United States by citizens of ^ 

another state, or by citizens or subjects of any \ 

^ foreign state. \ 

C Art. XII. — The electors shall meet in their { 

«! respective states, and vote by ballot for Presi- J 

s' dent and Vice-President, one of whom, at least, i 

f shall not be an inhabitant of the same state ) 



with themselves, they shall name in their bal- 



AMENDMENTS. 821 j 

lots the person voted for as President, and in \ 

distinct ballots the person voted for as Vice- i 

President; and they shall make distinct lists i 

of all persons voted for as President, and of all s 

persons voted for as Vice-President, and of the s 

number of votes for each ; which lists they shall ^ 

sign and certify, and transmit sealed to the seat ? 

'< of government of the United States, directed to \ 

i the President of the Senate, The President s 

> of the Senate shall, in the presence of the J 

^ Senate and House of Kepresentatives, open all ^ 

I the certificates, and the votes shall then be \ 



counted ; the person having the greatest num- 



1; thirds of the states, and a majority of all the 

'i states shall be necessary to a choice. And if 



J, uuuuttju ^ tut! ptJisuu Having iim gieatesu uuui- ^ 

i ber of votes for President, shall be President, if <. 

> such number be a majority of the whole num- ^ 

s ber of electors appointed ; and if no person ^ 

^ have such majority, then, from the persons hav- > 

s ing the highest number, not exceeding three, I 

\ on the list of those voted for as President, the i 

s House of Representatives shall choose imme- ? 

^ diately, by ballot, the President. But, in ^ 

i^ choosing the President, the votes shall be taken j 

J by states, the representation from each state \ 

s having one vote; a quorum for this purpose J 

< shall consist of a member or members from two e 



322 AMENDMENTS. 

the House of Representatives shall not choose 
a President, whenever the right of choice shall 
devolve upon them, before the fourth day of 
March next following, then the Vice-President 
shall act as President, as in the case of the 
death or other constitutional disability of the 
President. 



States shall accept, claim, receive, or retain any 
title of nobility or honor, or shall, without the 
consent of Congress, accept or retain any pre- 
sent, pension, office or emolument of any kind 



s 

[, 2. The person having the greatest number ^ 

\ of votes as Vice-President shall be the Vice- ;! 



President, if such number be a majority of the < 

;■ whole number of electors appointed ; and if no s 

•l person have a majority, then, from the two ? 

^ highest numbers on the list, the Senate shall \ 



choose the Vice-President; a quorum for the s 



r purpose shall consist of two thirds of the . 

) ~ ■ - « 

:; ^ 

S 



whole number of senators, and a majority of 

the whole number shall be necessary to a l* 

choice. ;; 

3. But no person constitutionally ineligi- ^ 



s ble to the office of President, shall be eligi- <; 

< ble to that of Vice-President of the United \' 

;; States. '/ 

i Art. XIII. — If any citizen of the United \ 



..J 



r 



AMENDMENTS. 323 



j whatever, from any emperor, king, prince, or 

J foreign power, such person shall cease to be a 

< citizen of the United States, and shall be inca- 

< pable of holding any office of trust or profit 
> under them or either of them. 



|. I 



WASHINGTOiN'S INAUGURAL ADDRESS. 

April 30, 1789. 



\ Felloio • Citizens of the Se7iate 

\ and House of Representatives : 



Among the vicissitudes incident to life, no j; 

event could have filled me with greater anxie- ^ 

ties than that of which the notification was [; 

transmitted by your order, and received on the '^ 

14th day of the present month. On the one <; 

hand, I was summoned by my country, whose 1; 

voice I can never hear but with veneration and ^ 

love, from a retreat which I had chosen with s 

the fondest predilection, and, in my flattering «; 

hopes, with an immutable decision, as the asy- \ 

lum of my declining years, a retreat which was ^ 

rendered every day more necessary as well as j 

more dear to me by the addition of habit to in- { 

clination, and of frequent interruptions in my i 

health, to the gradual waste committed on it by j 

time. On the other hand, the magnitude and { 

difficulty of the trust to which the voice of my { 



Washington's inaugural address. 325 



Such being the impressions under which I 
have, in obedience to the public summons, re- 
paired to the present station, it would be pecu- 
liarly improper to omit, in this first official act, 



country called me, being sufficient to awaken 

in the wisest and most experienced of her citi- ;J 

zens a distrustful scrutiny into his qualifica- < 

tions, could not but overwhelm with despond- J 

\ ency one who, inheriting inferior endowments ^ 

j from nature, and unpractised in the duties of ,J 

I civil administration, ought to be peculiarly con- < 

i scious of his own deficiencies. In this conflict 5 

\ of emotions, all that I dare aver is, that it has ■; 

I been my faithful study to collect my duty from J 

'f a just appreciation of every circumstance by J 

'I which it might be affected. All I dare hope is, ^ 
I; that if, in executing this task, I have been too 
[j much swayed by a grateful remembrance of for- 
> mer instances, or by an affectionate sensibility 
•_; to this transcendent proof of the confidence of 

.5 my fellow-citizens, and have thence too little J 

\ consulted my incapacity as well as disinclina- I; 

'(> tion for the weighty and untried cares before v 

s' me, my error will be palliated by the motives ;j 

J which misled me, and its consequences be s 
>' judged by my country with some share of the 



partiality with which they originated. ^ 



32G Washington's inaugural address. 



my fervent supplications to that Almighty 
Being who rules over the universe, who pre- 
J sides in the councils of nations, and whose 

\ providential aids can supply every human de- 

^ feet, that his benediction may consecrate to the 

^ liberties and happiness of the people of the 

^ United States a government instituted by them- J 

^ selves for these essential purposes, and may J 

>^ enable every instrument employed in its admin- ^ 

ji istration to execute with success the functions > 

< allotted to his charge. In tendering this homage s 

^ to the great Author of every public and private J 

> good, I assure myself that it expresses your sen- I^ 

> timents not less than my own, nor those of my ;^ 
\ fellow-citizens at large less than either. No s 
J people can be bound to acknowledge and adore ^ 
\ the invisible hand which conducts the affairs \ 
\ of men, more than the people of the United s 
I States. Every step by which they have ad- <', 

vanced to the character of an independent J 

nation seems to have been distinguished by ) 

some token of providential agency; and in ;! 

the important revolution just accomplished s 

in the system of their united government, >; 

the tranquil deliberations and voluntary con- ^ 

sent of so many distinct communities, from > 

which the event has resulted, cannot be com- J 



into that subject further than to refer to the 



■ 

Washington's inaugural address. 327 > 

I < 

I pared with the means by which most govern- j 

^, ments have been established without some J 

i return of pious gratitude, along with an hum- ? 

^ ble anticipation of the future blessings which s 

^ the past seems to presage. These reflections, ^ 

\ arising out of the present crisis^ have forced < 

\ themselves too strongly on my mind to be sup- ^ 

!• pressed. You will join with me, I trust, in > 

j thinking that there are none under the influ- <, 

ence of which the proceedings of a new and «; 

< free government can more auspiciously com- § 

mence. ^ 

By the article establishing the executive de- ^ 

partment, it is made the duty of the President ^ 

" to recommend to your consideration such ^ 

measures as he shall judge necessary and ex- ^ 

pedient.'' The circumstances under which I ^ 

now meet you will acquit me from entering ^ 

i' infrv fVinf ciiKianf fnrtVior fVinn tn rpfpr tr\ t.ViP )> 



\ great constitutional charter under which you ;5 

> are assembled, and which, in defining your j 

j powers, designates the objects to which your ] 

;> attention is to be given. It will be more con- i 

j sistent with those circumstances, and far more > 

I congenial with the feelings which actuate me, ) 

j to substitute, in place of a recommendation of J 

^ particular measures, the tribute that is due to j 



S 328 Washington's inaugural address. 

s 

'^ the talents, the rectitude, and the patriotism ? 

s 



which adorn the characters selected to devise < 

and adopt them. In these honorable qualifica- j 

r* tions I behold the surest pledges that as, on one i 

side, no local prejudices or attachments, no \ 

separate views nor party animosities, will misdi- ^ 

rect the comprehensive and equal eye which i 

ought to watch over this great assemblage of I 

communities and interests, so, on another, that > 

the foundations of our national policy will be | 

laid in the pure and immutable principles of ^ 

private morality ; and the preeminence of free i 

government be exemplified by all the attributes ? 
which can win the affections of its citizens, and 
command the respect of the world. I dwell on 
this prospect with every satisfaction which an 
ardent love for my country can inspire, since 

there is no truth more thoroughly established j 

than that there exists in the economy and s 

course of nature an indissoluble union between J 

virtue and happiness ; between duty and advan- ^^ 

tage ; between the genuine maxims of an hon- ^ 

est and magnanimous policy and the solid I 

rewards of public prosperity and felicity; since \ 

we ought to be less persuaded that the propi- \ 

tious smiles of Heaven can never be expected ? 
on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of 



> Washington's inaugural address. 329 :i 

s order and right wliicli Heaven itself has or- { 

s dained, and since the preservation of the sacred j 

^ fire of liberty, and the destiny of the republican { 

!; model of government, are justly considered as J 

s deeply, perhaps as finally, staked on the exper- ■! 

\ iment intrusted to the hands of the American \ 

\ 
s 



^' people. 

i Besides the ordinary objects submitted to 

J your care, it will remain with your judgment 

s to decide how far an exercise of the occasional 

t' power delegated by the fifth article of the con- 

^ stitution is rendered expedient, at the present 

} juncture, by the nature of the objections which 

jl have been urged against the system, or by the 

i degree of inquietude which has given birth to 
them. Instead of undertaking particular re- 



^ commendations on this subject, in which I s 

J could be guided by no lights derived from offi- < 

\ cial opportunities, I shall again give way to my < 



entire confidence in your discernment and pur- I; 

suit of the public good ; for I assure myself ,'1 

^ that while you carefully avoid every alteration < 

s which might endanger the benefits of a united 1; 

and effective government, or which ought to !- 

await (he future lessons of experience, a rever- ;> 

ence for the characteristic rights of freemen, jl 

and a regard for the public harmony, will suf- ;; 



-.'.^J 



330 Washington's inaugural address. 

ficientlj influence your deliberations on the 
question how far the former can be more im- ' 
pregnably fortified, or the latter be safely and 
advantageously promoted. 

To the preceding observations I have one to ^ 

add, which will be most properly addressed to \ 

the House of Representatives. It concerns my- < 

self, and will therefore be as brief as possible. ^ 

When I was first honored with a call into the ^ 

service of my country, then on the eve of an ^ 

arduous struggle for its liberties, the light in 1; 

which I contemplated my duty required that I S 

should renounce every pecuniary com-pensation. j 

From this resolution I have in no instance de- s 

parted; and being still under the impressions \ 

which produced it, I must decline, as inappli- ? 

cable to myself, any share in the personal J 

emoluments which may be indispensably inclu- ;! 

ded in a permanent provision for the executive J 

department, and must accordingly pray that the ^ 

c pecuniary estimates for the station in which I '? 

^ am placed, may, during my continuance in it, ^ 

? be limited to such actual expenditures as the J 

i public good may be thought to require. J 

I Having thus imparted to you my sentiments j 

\ as they have been awakened by the occasion ;! 

which brings us together, I shall take my pres- J 



< Washington's inaugural address. 831 

^ ent leave, but not without resorting once more 

J to the benign Parent of the human race, in 

f) humble supplication that, since he has been 

^ pleased to favor the American people with op- 

> portunities for deliberating in perfect tranquil- 

> lity, and dispositions for deciding with unpa- 
ralleled unanimity on a form of government for J 
the security of their union and the advance- J 
ment of their happiness, so his divine blessing ^ 
may be equally conspicuous in the enlarged (' 
views, the temperate consultations, and the wise J 
measures on which the success of this govern- '< 

,"; ment must depend. ^ 



1 



WASHINGTON'S FIRST ANNUAL ADDRESS. 

Januaby 8, 1790. 



'f important state of North Carolioa to the con- 



Felloiu- Citizens of the Senate ^ 

and House of Representatives : i 

I EMBRACE with great satisfaction the oppor- J 

tunity which now presents itself of congratulat- \ 

ing you on the present favorable prospects of ^ 

our public affairs. The recent accession of the \ 



stitution of the United States, (of which official ^ 

information has been received,) the rising credit > 

and respectability of our country, the general J 

and increasing good-will towards the govern- j 
ment of the Union, and the concord, peace and 
plenty, with which we are blessed, are circum- 
stances auspicious, in an eminent degree, to 
our national prosperity. 

In resuming your consultations for the gen- \ 

eral good, you cannot but derive encouragement s 

from the reflection that the measures of the last \ 

session have been as satisfactory to your con- J 

\ 



> WASHINGTON'S FIRST ANNUAL ADDRESS. 333 

\ stituents as the novelty and difficulty of the \ 

^ work allowed you to hope. Still further to I 

i realize their expectations, and to secure the j 

> blessings which a gracious Providence has J 
\ placed within our reach, will, in the course of < 
^ the present important session, call for the cool 

>, and deliberate exertion of your patriotism, firm- < 

^ ness, and wisdom. ^ 

>, Among the many interesting objects which ^ 

J will engage your attention, that of providing < 

< for the common defence will merit particular J 

j regard. To be prepared for war, is one of the I 

J most effectual means of preserving peace. i 

I A free people ought not only to be armed, > 

^ but disciplined ; to which end a uniform and { 

^ well-digested plan is requisite : and their safety \ 

^ and interest require that they should promote > 

:> such manufactures as tend to render them in- l 

dependent of others for essential, particularly ? 

\ military supplies. § 

I The proper establishment of the troops which \ 

; may be deemed indispensable will be entitled { 

I to mature consideration. In the arrangements \ 

; which may be made respecting it, it will be of 

I importance to conciliate the comfortable support \ 

I of the officers and soldiers, with a due regard I 

i to economy. 



334 Washington's first annual address. > 

? There was reason to hope that the pacific \ 

I measures, adopted with regard to certain hostile \ 

j tribes of Indians, would have relieved the in- \ 

I habitants of our southern and western frontiers \ 

i from their depredations; but you will perceive, ^ 

j from the information contained in the papers § 

I which I shall direct to be laid before you, (com- -; 

I prehending a communication from the Com- ^ 

i monwealth of Virginia,) that we ought to be \ 

> prepared to afford protection to those parts of ^ 

^ the Union, and, if necessary, to punish aggres- s 

s sors. < 

i The interests of the United States requird \ 

\ that our intercourse with other nations should ^ 

;> be facilitated by such provisions as will enable > 

J me to fulfil my duty in that respect in the man- ^ 

< ner which circumstances may render most con- > 

^ ducive to the public good, and, to this end, that ^' 

I the compensations to be made to tbe persons s 

I who may be employed should, according to the ^ 



nature of their appointments, be defined by law; 
and a competent fund designated for defraying 
the expenses incident to the conduct of our 



s foreign affairs 



Various considerations also render it expe- 
dient that the terms on which foreigners may 
be admitted to the rights of citizens should 



-U^^-, 



Washington's first annual address. 835 5 

i be speedily ascertained by a uniform rule of J 

\ naturalization. j 

i Uniformity in the currency, weights, and j 

I measures of the United States, is an object of s 



great importance, and will, I am persuaded, be 
duly attended to. 

The advancement of agriculture, commerce, 
and manufactures, by all proper means, will 
not, I trust, need recommendation ; but I can- 



^ not forbear intimating to you the expediency of \ 

I giving effectual encouragement, as well to the I; 

< introduction of new and useful inventions from \ 

J abroad, as to the exertions of skill and genius ^ 

I in producing them at home ; and of facilitating s 

s the intercourse between the distant parts of our ^ 

s country by a due attention to the post-office > 

J and post-roads. \ 

\ Nor am I less persuaded that you will agree J 

;. with me in opinion, that there is nothing which s 

S can better deserve your patronage than the I; 

J promotion of science and literature. Know- 



^ ledge is in every country the surest basis of ^ 

J public happiness. In one in which the mea- |; 

\ sures of government receive their impressions '^ 

j so immediately from the sense of the commu- j 

\ nity as in ours, it is proportionably essential. ] 

] To the security of a free constitution it con- j 



836 Washington's first annual address. 



Gentlemen of the House of Representatives : 

I saw with peculiar pleasure, at the close of 
the last session, the resolution entered into by 



tributes in various ways; by convincing those 
who are entrusted with the public administra- 
tion that every valuable end of government is 

best answered by the enlightened confidence of \ 
the people; and by teaching the people them- 
selves to know and to value their own rights ; 

to discern and provide against invasions of !> 
them ; to distinguish between oppression and 

the necessary exercise of lawful authority ; be- ] 

) tween burdens proceeding from a disregard to ^ 

f their convenience, and those resulting from the S 

I inevitable exigencies of society ; to discriminate j 

> the spirit of liberty from that of licentiousness, S 
< cherishing the first, avoiding the last, and ] 
\ uniting a speedy but temperate vigilance J 
p against encroachments, with an inviolable re- j 
^ spect to the laws. \ 

> Whether this desirable object will be best < 
\ promoted by affording aids to seminaries of \ 
i learning already established, by the institution \ 
\ of a national university, or by any other expe- J 
^ dients, will be well worthy of a place in the J 



deliberations of the legislature. s 



\ 



Washington's first annual address. 337 
}oii, expressive of your opinion that an ade- 



The welfare of our country is the great ob- 
ject to which our cares and efforts ought to be 



) quate provision for the support of the public 5 

^ credit is a matter of high importance to the '/ 

5 national honor and prosperity. In this senti- < 

i nient I entirely concur. And, to a perfect ^ 

\ confidence in your best endeavours to devise \ 

} such a provision as will be truly consistent > 

i with the end, I add an equal reliance on the ;.' 

^ cheerful cooperation of the other branch of s 

^ the legislature. It would be superfluous to '' 

^1 specify inducements to a measure in which 
the character and permanent interest of the 



;; United States are so obviously and so deeply < 



J concerned, and which has received so explicit 

^' a sanction from your declaration. /, 

^ Gentlemen of the Senate > 

\ and House of Representatives : . s 

I I have directed the proper officers to lay ^ 

-; before you, respectively, such papers and ) 

\ estimates as regard the affair? particularly ^ 

j recommended to your consideration, and ne- > 

cessary to convey to you that information of ^ 



s the state of the Union which it is my duty to s 

< afford. >. 



338 Washington's first annual address. 

directed. And I shall derive great satisfaction 
from a cooperation with you in the pleasing 
though arduous task of insuring to our fellow- 
citizens the blessings which they have a right 
to expect from a free, efficient, and equal gov- 
ernment. 



I ! 



WASEINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS, 

SEr"^EMBEK 17, 1796. 



^ 



^ Friends and Fellow - Citizens : 

!; The period for a new election of a citizen to 

(' administer the executive government of the 

'f United States being not far distant, and the 

^ time actually arrived when your thoughts must 

s be employed in designating the person who is 

^ to be clothed with that important trust, it ap- 

j pears to me proper, especially as it may con- 

s duce to a more distinct expression of the public 

■; voice, that I should now apprize you of the 

1; resolution I have formed, to decline being con- 

J sidered among the number of those out of whom 

s the choice is to be made. \ 

\ I beg you, at the same time, to ^ me the 'I 

^ justice to be assured, that this resolution has '> 

\ not been taken without a strict regard to all \, 

I; the considerations appertaining to the relation i 

j ' which binds a dutiful citizen to his country ; !; 

^22 » \ 



J 340 Washington's farewell address. 



1; and tliat, in withdrawing the tender of service, ^ 

(» which silence in my situation might imply, I ;j 

J am influenced by no diminution of zeal for \ 

^ your future interest; no deficiency of grateful s 

^ respect for your past kindness; but am sup- .'' 

\ ported by a full conviction that the step is com- (- 

^ patible with both. < 

J The acceptance of, and continuance hitherto "< 

in, the office to which your suffrages have < 
twice called me, have been a uniform sacrifice 
of inclination to the opinion of duty, and to a 
deference for what appeared to be your desire. 
I constantly hoped that it would have been 

much earlier in my power, consistently with J 

motives which I was not at liberty to disregard, ^ 

to return to that retirement from which I had i^ 

been reluctantly drawn. The strength of my \ 

inclination to do this, previous to the last elec- J 

tion, had even led to the preparation of an I; 

address to declare it to you ; but mature reflec- ^ 

tion on the then perplexed and critical posture { 

of affairs with foreign nations, and the unani- ] 

mous advice of persons entitled to my confi- ^ 

dence, impelled me to abandon the idea. I i 

rejoice that the state of your concerns, external ) 

as well as internal, no longer renders the pur- j 

suit of inclination incompatible with the senti- j 



Washington's farewell address. 341 ^ 

ment of duty or propriety; and am persuaded, ;^ 

j whatever partiality may be retained for my ser- J 

I vices, that, in the present circumstances of our < 

i Country, you will not disap'prove of my deter- j 

i miuatiun to retire. j 

i The impressions with which I first under- ^ 

I . took the arduous trust were explained on the \ 

i proper occasion. In the discharge of this trust, s 

\ I will only say, that I have, with good inten- (j 

J tions, contributed towards the organization and > 

."J administration of the government the best exer- J 

'^ tions of which a very fallible judgment was j 

'•] capable. Not unconscious, in the outset, of the 

ij inferiority of my qualifications, experience, in 

> my own eyes, perhaps still more in the eyes of 

;; others, has strengthened the motives to diffi- 

< dence of myself; and, every day, the increasing j! 
) weight of years admonishes me more and more, ^ 
/ that the shade of retirement is as necessary to v 
s me as it will be welcome. Satisfied that if any ;! 
J circumstances have given peculiar value to my s 
\ services, they were temporary, I have the con- J 
J; solation to believe that while choice? and pru- s 
J. dence invite me to quit the political scene, > 

< patriotism does not forbid it. J 
1; In looking forward to the moment which is '< 
J to terminate the career of my political life, my s 



342 Washington's farewell address. ? 

feeliugs do not permit me to suspend the deep ^ 

acknowledgment of that debt of gratitude which ^ 

I owe to my beloved country for the many i 

honors it has conferred upoQ me ; still more for \ 

the steadfast confidence with which it has sup- ] 

ported me ; and for the opportunities I have ^ 

thence enjoyed of manifesting my inviolable . j 
attachment, by services faithful and persever 



> benefits have resulted to our country from these > 



>^ ing, though in usefulness unequal to my zeal. If 



services, let it always be remembered to your s 

praise, and as an instructive example in our ^ 

annals, that under circumstances in which the !• 

passions^ agitated in every direction, were liable ^ 

to mislead, amidst appearances sometimes du- ]> 

bious, vicissitudes of fortune often discouraging, ^ 

in situations in which not unfrequently want < 

of success has countenanced the spirit of criti- ^ 

cism, the constancy of your support was the ;j 

essential prop of the efforts, and a guaranty of •) 

the plans, by which they were efi'ected. Pro- J 

foundly penetrated with this idea, I shall carry <; 

it with me to the grave, as a strong incitement \ 

to unceasing wishes that Heaven may continue ;! 

to you the choicest tokens of its beneficence — ■ ;; 

J that your union and brotherly afi'ection may be J, 

j perpetual — that the free constitution which is 5 



avashington's farewell address. 343 
the work of your hands may be sacredly main- 



J tained — that its administration in every depari- 

^ ment may be stamped with wisdom and virtue — \ 

} that, in fine, the happiness' of the people of \ 

< these states, under the auspices of liberty, may ;! 

^ be made complete, by so careful a preservation < 

;; and so prudent a use of this blessing, as will \ 

;; acquire to them the glory of recommending it l 

J; to the applause, the afi'ection, and adoption of < 

^ every nation which is yet a stranger to it. J 

^ Here, perhaps, I ought to stop. But a solic- ? 

^ itude for your welfare, which cannot end but \ 

> with my life, and the apprehension of danger, §' 
^ natural to that solicitude, urge me, on an occa- ;J 

> sion like the present, to offer to your solemn ^ 
\ contemplation, and to recommend to your fre- ^ 
,^ quent review, some sentiments, which are the I 

> result of much reflection, of no inconsiderable i 
,; observation, and which appear to me all-impor- >, 
^ tant to the permanency of your felicity as a i 
I people. These will be offered to you with the \ 
^ more freedom, as you can only see in them the ) 
J disinterested warnings of a parting friend, who i 
J can possibly have no personal motives to bias \ 
j his counsel. Nor can I forget, as an encourage- | 
;, meat to it, your indulgent reception of my sen- I 







344 Washington's farewell address, 



timents on a former and not dissimilar occa- 
sion. 

Interwoven as is the love of liberty with 
every ligament of our hearts, no recommenda- 
tion of mine is necessary to fortify or confirm 
the attachment. ^ 

The unity of government, which constitutes ^ 

you one people, is also now dear to you. It is \ 

justly so; for it is a main pillar in the edifice ^ 

of your real independence ; the support of your \ 

tranquillity at home; your peace abroad; of i 

your safety ; of your prosperity ; of that very l 

liberty which you so highly prize. But as it <{ 

is easy to foresee, that, from difi'erent causes 
and from difi'erent quarters, much pains will be 



s 

taken, many artifices employed, to weaken in ji 

your minds the conviction of this truth ; as this j, 

is the point in your political fortress against ^ 

which the batteries of internal and external \ 

enemies will be most constantly and actively ] 

(though often covertly and insidiously) di- ;. 

rected ; it is of infinite moment, that you should \ 

properly estimate the immense value of your > 

national union to your collective and individual ;> 

happiness; that you should cherish a cordial, J 

habitual, and immovable attachment to it; \ 

accustoming yourselves to think and to speak ^ 



! Washington's farewell address. 345 j 



of it as a palladium of your political safety and 
prosperity; watching for its preservation with 



•, •__! ^^-^l^^^ . /^iort/-iii>^fononnin(T ■wlinffVPV , 



jealous anxiety; discountenancing whatever s 

may suggest even a suspicion that it can in j 

any event be abandoned; and indignantly < 

; frowning upon the first dawning of every at- ] 

; tempt to alienate any portion of our country \ 

; from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties \ 

which now link together the various parts. j 

I For this you have every inducement of sym- J 

I pathy and interest. Citizens, by birth or s 

j choice, of a common country, that country has <; 

> a right to concentrate your affections. The ,; 

j; name of American, which belongs to you in | 

i your national capacity, must always exalt the J 

J just pride of patriotism more than any appella- j 

J tion derived from local discriminations. With J 

{ slight shades of difference, you have the same ^ 

$ religion, manners, habits, and political priuci- J 

>, pie. You have, in a common cause, fought ;, 

\ and triumphed together ; the independence and J 

I liberty you possess are the work of joint coun- J 

I cils and joint efforts — of common dangers, suf- i> 

^^ ferings, and success. > 
I But these considerations, however powerfully 
^ they address themselves to your sensibility, are 
I greatly outweighed by those which apply more 






\ 846 Washington's farewell address. 

i 

} i-nmccliately to jour interest. Here every por- J 

i tiun of our country finds the most commanding j 

? motives for carefully guarding and preserving } 

j the union of the whole. J 

> The north, in an unrestrained intercourse j 
j with the south, protected by the equal laws of \ 
J a common government, finds in the productions i 

> of the latter great additional resources of raari- ,; 
j time and commercial enterprise, and precious J 
\ materials of manufacturing industry. The j 
\ south, in the same intercourse, benefiting by s 
^ the same agency of the north, sees its agricul- •; 
^ ture grow and its commerce expand. Turning J' 
;! partly into its own channels the seamen of the ^ 
J oiorth, it finds its particular navigation invig- ] 
s orated — and while it contributes in different 



'' ways to nourish and increase the general mnss '■ 



\ of the national navigation, it looks forward to ij 

'^ the protection of a maritime strength, to which s 

;; itself is unequally adapted. The east, in like 



s 
s 



s intercourse with the ivest, already finds, and in ^ 



the progressive improvement of interior com- ^ 

^ munications by land and water wmII more and ? 

y more find, a valuable vent for the commodities \, 

5 which it brings from abroad, or manufactures J 

I; at home. The icest derives from the east sup- ^ 

plies requisite to its growth and comfort; and ^ 



Washington's fatiewell address. 847 

what is perhaps of still greater coKsequence, it 
must of necessitj owe the secure enjoy men t of 
indispensable outlets for its own productions, to 



>; the weight, influence, and the future maritime 

} strength of the Atlantic side of the Union, di- s 



> rected by an indissoluble community of interest ^ 

} as one nation. Any other tenure by which the \ 

i west can hold this essential advantage, whether J 

I* derived from its own separate strength, or from ;. 

\ an apostate and unnatural connection with any jj 

s foreign power, iliust be intrinsically precarious. > 

J While, then, every part of our country thus } 

I; feels an immediate and particular interest in ^ 

I; union, all the parts combined cannot fail to find ^ 

J^ in the united mass of means and efforts, greater <; 

'< strength, greater resources, proportionably <; 

i ' greater security from external danger, a less ;> 

frequent interruption of their peace by foreign ') 

nations ; and, what is of inestimable value, they < 

must derive from union an exemption from f; 

those broils and wars between themselves, which '!> 

SO frequently afflict neighbouring countries, not f; 

tied together by the same government, which '< 
'< ' their own rivalships alone would be sufficient to 
J produce; but which opposite foreign alliances 

^ attachments, and intrigues, would stimulate and I 

;! imbitter. Hence, likewise, they will avoid the J 



\ 

J s 



5 CIS Washington's farewell address. \ 

I necessity of tliosc overgrown military estab- !• 

^ lishments, which, under any form of govern- s 

^ ment, are inauspicious to liberty, and which < 

^ are to be regarded as particularly hostile to '^ 



^ republican liberty. In this sense it is, that \ 

i your union ought to be considered as a main ^ 

< prop of your liberty, and that the love of the s 

J one ought to endear to you the preservation of I 

^ the other. -; 

s These considerations speak a persuasive Ian- i 

^ guage to every reflecting and virtuous mind, I 

J and exhibit the continuance of the union as a f, 

J primary object of patriotic desire. Is there a ^ 

;! doubt whether a common government can ? 

J, embrace so large a sphere? Let experience \ 

J solve it. To listen to a mere speculation in j 

f such a case were criminal. We are authorized J 

\ to hope that a proper organization of the whole, J 

J with the auxiliary agency of governments for J 
the respective subdivisions, will aiford a happy 
issue of the experiment. It is well worth a 
fair and full experiment. With such powerful 
and obvious motives to union, affecting all 
parts of our country, while experience shall not 
have demonstrated its impracticability, there 
will always be reason to distrust the patriotism 



L,. 



WASHINGTON 'ti FAREWELL ADDRESS. 349 j 

of ;]iose wlio in any quarter may endeavor to j 

WiMkcii its bands. '^ 

Til contemplating the causes which may dis- ;; 



< turb our union, it occurs as matter of serious ? 
\ concern that any ground should have been fur- ^ 
■^ nished for characterizing parties by geographical \ 
Jl discriminations — Northern and Southern ; At- \ 
^ Za?i^?*c and TTes^erw; whence designing men may 

\ endeavor to excite a belief that there is a real ^ 

> difference of local interests and views. One of s 

^ the expedients of a party to acquire influence < 

< within particular districts is to misrepresent the ^ 
^ opinions and aims of other districts. You cannot ;' 
^ shield yourselves too much against the jealous- 
^ ies and heart-burnings which spring from these 
J misrepresentations; they tend to render alien j 
<| to each other those who ought to be bound 
N together by fraternal affection. The inhabi- \ 
5 tants of our western country have lately had a J 
s useful lesson on this head. They have seen, J 

< in the negotiation by the executive, and in the i, 
unanimous ratification by the senate of the I^ 
treaty with Spain, and in the universal satis- j 
faction of that event throughout the United j 
States, a decisive proof how unfounded were j 
the suspicions propagated among them of a ^ 
policy in the general government, and in the ? 



350 avashington's farewell address. 



-; Atlantic states, unfriendly to their interests in j 

I regard to the Mississippi. They have been j 

/ witnesses to the formation of two treaties, — \ 

'j that with Great Britain, and that with Spain, ? 

(f — which secure to them everything they could s 

\ desire, in respect to our foreign relations, to- \ 

\ wards confirming their prosperity. Will it not \ 

> be their wisdom to rely for the preservation of ^ 
^ these advantages on the union by which they \ 
\ were procured ? Will they not henceforth be ;! 
I deaf to those advisers, if such there are, who ^ 
? would sever them from their brethren, and J 
\ connect them with aliens ? s 

< To the efficacy and permanency of your \ 
\ union, a government for the whole is indispen- > 

> sable. No alliances, however strict, between \ 
^ the parts, can be an adequate substitute; they \ 
\ must inevitably experience the infractions and \ 
^ interruptions which alliances at all times have ^ 
f^ experienced. Sensible of this momentous ^ 
\ truth, you have improved upon your first \ 
^f essay, by the adoption of a constitution of gov- | 
\ ernment better calculated than your former for i 
\ an intimate union, and for the efficacious man- j 
\ ageraent of your common concerns. This 

;> government, the offspring of your own choice, { 

< uninfluenced and unawed; adopted upon full { 






Washington's farewell address. 351 



i investigation and mature deliberation ; com- 5 

> ..... { 

\ pletely free in its principles; in the distribution j; 

\ of its powers uniting security with energy, and \ 

'• containing within itself provision for its own s 

[^ amendment, has a just claim to your confidence \ 

\ and your support. Respect for its authority, J 

\ compliance with its laws, acquiescence in its \ 

} measures, are duties enjoined by the fundamen- ^ 

;> tal maxims of true liberty. The basis of our s 

\ political system is the right of the people to } 

j make and to alter their constitutions of govern- I; 

\ ment. But the constitution which ct any time \> 

J exists, until changed by an explicit and authen- ;! 

j tic act of the whole people, is sacredly obliga- \ 

■', tory upon all. The very idea of the power ^ 

\ and the right of the people to establish govern- 

\ ment, presupposes the duty of every individual \ 

j to obey the established government. \ 

\ All obstructions to the execution of the laws, s 

J all combinations and associations, under what- \ 

] ever plausible character, with the real design to '] 

J direct, control, counteract, or awe, the regular j 

j deliberations and action of the constituted au- \ 

j thorities, are destructive of this fundamental J 

? principle, and of fatal tendency. They serve j 

^ to organize faction ; to give it an artificial and ;'. 

5 extraordinary force ; to put in the place of the ) 



.-JU.. 



2 WASHINGTON S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



\ men will be enabled to subvert the power of the 



< delegated will of the nation the will of party, fj 

i often a small, but artful and enterprising |; 

\ minority of the community; and according to \ 

\ the alternate triumphs of different parties, to \ 

\ make the public admiuistration the mirror of 'J. 

\ the ill-concerted and incongruous projects of s 

^ faction, rather than the organ of consistent and j 

\ wholesome plans, digested by common counsels ^ 

s and modified by mutual interests. ^ 

\ However combinations or associations of the \ 

^ above description may now and then answer ^ 

\ popular ends, they are likely, in the course of \ 

time and things, to become potent engines by \ 

which cunning, ambitious, and unprincipled \ 



people, and to usurp for themselves the reins j 

of government ; destroying afterwards the very J 

engines which have lifted them to unjust do- i 

minion. \ 

Towards the preservation of your govern- \ 

ment, and the permanency of your present \ 

happy state, it is requisite not only that you ] 

steadily discountenance irregular opposition to s 

its acknowledged authority, but also that you s 

resist with care the spirit of innovation upon its ^ 

principles, however suspicious the pretext. One \ 

method of assault may be to effect in the forms > 



Washington's farewell address. 353 :> 

{ 

of tlie constitution alterations which will impair J 

the ciurgy of the system, and thus to under- .' 

mine what cannot })e directly overthrown. In ) 

all the chanoes to which you may be invited, ) 

remember that time and habit are at least ] 

as necessary to fix the true character of govern- \ 

ments, as of other human institutions; that \' 

experience is the surest standard by which to jj 

test the real tendency of the existing constitu- 
tions of a country; that facility in changes, >' 
upon the credit of mere hypothesis and opinion, > 
exposes to perpetual change, from the endless \ 
variety of hypothesis and opinion ; and remem- ;! 
ber especially, that, for the efficient manage- s 
ment of your common interests, in a country so ^ 
extensive as ours, a government of as much 
vigor as is consistent with the perfect security 
of liberty, is indispensable. Liberty itself 
will find in such a government, with powers 
properly distributed and adjusted, its surest 
guardian. It is, indeed, little else than a 
name, where the government is too feeble to 
withstand the enterprises of faction, to confine 
each member of society within the limits pre- 
scribed by the laws, and to maintain all in the 
secure and tranquil enjoyment of the rights of 
person and property. 



, . J 



35-1 Washington's eare-svell address. 



$ I have all cad J intimated to you the clanger ;! 

;> of parties in the state, with particular reference ^ 

} to the founding of them upon geographic.-tl dis- ^ 

;', criminations. Lnt me n(jvv take a more com- \ 

i; prehensive view, and warn you, in the most 

\ solemn manner, against tlie baneful effects of 

i the spirit of party generally. 

^ This spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from 

■; our nature, having its root in the strongest pas- 

> sions of the human mind. It exists under 

> different shapes in all governments, more or 
•";, less stifled, controlled, or repressed ; but in 
s those of the popular form it is seen in its great- 
< est rankness, and is truly their worst enemy. 
;; The alternate domination of one faction over 
;'i another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge 
\ natural to party dissension, which in different 
\ ages and countries has perpetrated the most 
^ horrid enormities, is itself a frightful despotism. 
\ But this leads at length to a more formal and 
s permanent despotism. The disorders and mis- 
{ eries which result, gradually incline the minds 
{ of men to seek security and repose in the abso- 
,; lute power of an individual ; and, sooner or 
;. later the chief of some prevailing faction, more 

able or more fortunate than his competitors, 



23 



J WASHINGTON S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 355 

\ turns this disposition to the purpose of his own s 

^ elevation on the ruins of the public liberty. / 

j Without looking forward to an extremity of / 

jl this kind, (which, nevertheless, ought not to be J 

I entirely out of sight,) the common and con- s 

J tinual mischiefs of the spirit of a party are s 

< sufficient to make it the interest and duty of a I* 

^ wise people to discourage and restrain it. ,■ 

J It serves always to distract the public coun- C 

!; cils, and enfeeble the public administration. It \ 

^ agitates the community with ill-founded jeal- < 

1^ ousies and false alarms ; kindles the animosity J 

\ of one part against another ; foments occasional " )■ 

;? riot and insurrection. It opens the door to < 

;J foreign influence and corruption, which finds \ 

J a facilitated access to the government itself j 

|J through the channels of party passion. Thus ^| 

j the policy and will of one country are subjected ^' 

,^ to the policy and will of another. J 

^ There is an opinion that parties in free coun- > 

I tries are useful checks upon the administration > 

I; of the government, and serve to keep alive the > 

> spirit of liberty. This, within certain limits, is j 

{ probably true; and in governments of a mo- \ 

\ narchical cast, patriotism may look with indul- ! 

l gence, if not with favour, upon the spirit of j 

\ party. But in those of the popular character \ 



356 Washington's farewell address. J 

« ..... I 

in governiueiits purelj elective, it is a spirit not r; 

to be encouraged. From the natural tendency, !• 

it is certain there 'will always be enough of that ^ 

spirit for every salutary purpose 3 and there J 

being constant danger of excess, the effort j 

GUirht to be, by force of public opinion, to miti- ? 

gate and assuage it. A fire not to be quenched, ; 

it demands a uniform vigilance to prevent its s 

bursting into a flame, lest, instead of warming, _s 

it should consume. i, 

It is important, likewise, that the habits of ^ 

thinking in a free country, should inspire ^ 

^ caution, in those intrusted with its adrainistra- ^, 

I tion, to confine themselves within their respec- I^ 

«; tive constitutional spheres; avoiding, in the > 

<; exercise of the powers of one department, to ^ 

l- encroach upon another. The spirit of encroach- s 

s ment tends to consolidate the powers of all the J 

I departments in one, and thus to create, what- 1; 

i ever the form of government, a real despotism, ;^ 

\ A just estimate of that love of power, and jl 

s proneness to abuse it, which predominates in ^ 

;! the human heart, is sufficient to satisfy us of '<', 

\ the truth of this position. The necessity of ,^ 

^ reciprocal, checks in the exercise of political ^ 

^ power, by dividing and distributing it into dif- ^' 

) ferent depositories, and constituting each the \ 



ayashington's farewell address. 357 \ 

guardian of the public weal against invasions ^ 

of the other, has been evinced by experiments, i 

ancient and modern ; some of them in our 5 

country, and under our own eyes. To pre- | 

J serve them must be as necessary as to institute ^ 

J them. If, in the opinion of the people, the dis- i 

\ tribution or modification of the constitutional \ 

j powers be, in any particular, wrong, let it be *> 

? corrected by an amendment in the way which '^ 

i the constitution designates. But let there be j 

\ no change by usurpation ; for though this, in 

? one instance, may be the instrument of good, it 

^ is the customary weapon by which free govern - 

j raents are destroyed. The precedent must 

< always greatly overbalance, in permanent evil, 
\ any partial or transient benefit which the use 
\ can at any time yield. 
;! Of all the dispositions and habits which lead 

< to political prosperity, religion and morality are 
indispensable supports. In vain would that 
man claim the tribute of patriotism who should 
labor to subvert these great pillars of human 
happiness — these firmest props of the duties 
of men and citizens. The mere politician, 
equally with the pious man, ought to respect 
and to cherish them. A volume could not 
trace all their connection with private and 



\ 

\ public felicity. Let it simply be asked, where I 

J> is the security for property, for reputation, for \ 

^ life, if the sense of religious obligation desert 5 

<* the oaths, which are the instruments of inves- { 

i . . . . . . *> 

\ tigation in courts of justice? And let us with \ 

I caution indulge the supposition that morality ^ 

\ can be maintained without religion. What- ) 

I ever may be conceded to the influence of re- \ 

^ fined education on minds of peculiar structure, ^ 

J reason and experience both forbid us to expect \ 

{ that national morality can prevail in exclusion ',> 

;! of religious principles. ^, 

<; It is substantially true that virtue or morality 

\ is a necessary spring of popular government. 

J- The rule, indeed, extends, with more or less 

s force, to every species of free government. 

\ Who that is a sincere friend to it can look with 

i indifference upon attempts to shake the founda- 

j tion of the fabric ? 

! Promote, then, as an object of primary im- 

f portance, institutions for the general diifusion 

\ of knowledge. In proportion as the structure 

\ of a government gives force to public opinion, 

i it is essential that public opinion should be en- 

\ lightened. 

( As a very important source of strength and 

f security, cherish public credit. One method 



Washington's farewell address. 359 



^ of preserving it is to use it as sparingly as pos- 

l sible, aroidiQg occasions of expense by culti- 

^ vating peace, but remembering, also, that timely 

J disbursements to prepare for danger frequently 

^ prevent much greater disbursements to repel it; 

s avoiding, likewise, the accumulation of debt, 

not only by shunning occasions of expense, but 
by vigorous exertions in time of peace to dis- 



\ charge the debts which unavoidable wars have 



occasioned, not ungenerously throwingupon pos- \ 

terity the burdens which we ourselves ought to !; 

bear. The execution of these maxims belongs > 

to your representatives ; but it is necessary that < 

public opinion should cooperate. To facilitate < 

to them the performance of their duty, it is es- < 

I sential that you should practically bear in ^ 

i mind, that towards the payment of debts there > 

> must be revenue ; that to have revenue there ^ 
jl must be taxes; that no taxes can be devised s 
\ which are not more or less inconvenient and j 
^ unpleasant; that the intrinsic embarrassment, ^^ 

> inseparable from the selection of the proper ob- ;| 
J jects, (which is always a choice of difficulties,) ;5 
b ought to be a decisive motive for a candid con- \ 
\ struction of the conduct of the government in \ 
'^ making it, and for a spirit of acquiescence in ;■ 

I I 



r 



;60 Washington's farewell address. 



I 

j fehe measures for obtaining revenue which the \ 

s public exigencies may at any time dictate. \ 

I Observe good faith and justice towards all ^ 

? nations ; cultivate peace and harmony with all ; s 

'} religion and morality enjoin this conduct; and j; 

J. can it be that good policy does not equally en- ^ 

I join it? It will be worthy of a free, enlight- f< 

(^ ened, and, at no distant period, a great nation, I 



,> to give to mankind the mas;nanimous and < 

J too novel example of a people always guided \ 

^ by an exalted justice and benevolence. Who '^ 

> can doubt but that, in the course of time ^ 

^ and things, the fruits of such a plan would f, 

\ richly repay any temporary advantages which ^ 

< might be lost by a steady adherence to it ? ^ 

<; Can it be that Providence has connected the | 

^ permanent felicity of a nation with its virtue? j 

'< The experiment, at least, is recommended j 

<, by every sentiment which ennobles human | 

I; nature. Alas ! it is rendered impossible by its ; 



vices ! ; 

In the execution of such a plan, nothing is j 

more essential than that permanent, inveterate j 

antipathies against peculiar nations, and pas- j 

sionate attachment for others, should be ex- \ 

eluded; and that, in the place of them, just < 

and amicable feelings towards all should be (j 



Washington's farewell address. 301 j 

cultivated. The nation which indulges towards j 

another an habitual hatred, or an habitual fond- ■ 
ness, is in some degree, a slave. It is a slave 

to its animosity or to its affection, either of \ 

which is sufficient to lead it astray from its | 

duty and its interest. Antipathy in one nation \ 

against another disposes each more readily to \ 

offer insult and injury, to lay hold of slight s 

causes of umbrage, and to be haughty and in- | 

tractable when accidental or trifling occasions '{ 

of dispute occur. v 

Hence frequent collisions, obstinate, en- ;- 
venomed, and bloody contests. The nation, 
prompted by ill-will and resentment, sometimes 
impels to war the government, contrary to the 
best calculations of policy. The government 

sometimes participates in the national propen- [. 

sity, and adopts, through passion, what reason J 

would reject ; at other times, it makes the ani- \ 

J mosity of the nation subservient to the projects \^ 

i of hostility, instigated by pride, ambition, and j 

'"I other sinister and pernicious motives. The C 

I peace often, sometimes perhaps the liberty, of f 

^ nations has been the victim. , ^ 

^ So, likewise, a passionate attachment of one ^ 

< nation for another produces a variety of evils. J 

? Sympathy for the favourite nation, facilitating J 

\ I 



/ 



L 



862 WASIIINGTO^^'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



the illusion of an imaginary common interest 



J in cases where no real common interest exists, j 

J and infusing into one the enmities of the other, s 

j betrays the former into a participation in the J 

) quarrels and the wars of the latter, without ade- s 

i quate inducements or justification. It leads, ? 

) also, to concessions to the favourite nation of j 

i privileges denied toothers, which are apt doubly ^ 

^^ to injure the nation making the concessions, by \ 

j unnecessarily parting with what ought to have J 

< been retained, and by exciting jealousy, ill-will, ^' 

? and a disposition to retaliate, in the parties > 

J from whom equal privileges are withheld; and s' 

I it gives to ambitious, corrupt, or deluded citi- \ 

I zens, (who devote themselves to the favourite f 

nation,) facility to betray or sacrifice the inter- ^ 

ests of their own country without odium, some- s 

times even with popularity ; gilding with the ^ 

appearances of a virtuous sense of obligation < 

to a commendable deference for public opinien, } 

or a laudable zeal for public good, the base or ^' 

foolish compliances of ambition, corruption, or j 

infatuation. < 

As avenues to foreign influence, in innumer- ? 

able ways, such attachments are particularly / 

'f alarming to the truly enlightened and indepen- s 

\ dent patriot. How many opportunities do they ;! 



< WASHINGTON'S FARE^VELL ADDRESS. 363 ; 

; 

5 afford to tainper with domestic factions, to ; 

> practise the art of seduction, to mislead public I 

i opinion, to influence or awe the public councils I • ! 

s Such an attachment of a small or weak towards ; 

? a great and powerful nation, dooms the former ; 

,; to be the satellite of the latter. Against the ] 

J insidious wiles of foreign influence, (I conjure j 

I you to believe me, fellow-citizens,) the jealousy J 

^ of a free people ought to be constantly awake, s 

J since history and experience prove that foreign I 

j influence is one of the most baneful foes of re- J 

§ publican government. But that jealousy, too, j 

■! to be useful, must be impartial, else it becomes \ 

;! the instrument of the very influence to be J 

i avoided, instead of a defence against it. Ex- * ? 

J cessive partiality for one foreign nation, and ex- < 

^ cessive dislike for another, cause those whom \ 

I they actuate to see danger only on one side, and 

I serve to veil and even second the arts of influ- 

■I etice on the other. Keal patriots, who may 

resist the intrigues of the favorite, are liable to 
become suspected and odious; while its tools 
and dupes usurp the applause and confidence 
of the people to. surrender their interests. 

The great rule of conduct for us, in regard to 
foreign nations, is, in extending our commercial 
relations, to have with them as little political 






IG4 Washington's farewell address. 



^ connection as possible. So far as we have ^ 

^ already formed engagements, let them be ful- j 

?, filled with perfect good faith. Here let us } 

^1 stop. .; 

5 Europe has a set of primary interests, which 5 

I to us have none, or a very remote relation. j 

I; Hence; she must be engaged in frequent con- > 

>] troversies, the causes of which are essentially \ 

> foreign to our concerns. Hence, therefore, it j 

must be unwise in us to implicate ourselves, by ^ 

artificial ties, in the ordinary vicissitudes of her ^ 

politics, or the ordinary combinations and col- / 

lisions of her friendships or enmities. ^ 

Our detached and distant situation invites J 

and enables us to pursue a different course. If \ 

we remain one people, under an efficient gov- 1; 

erunient, the period is not far off when we may ? 

defy material injury from external annoyance; ^ 

when we may take such an attitude as will ^ 

cause the neutrality we may at any time re- J 

solve upon to be scrupulously respected ; when i 

belligerent nations, under the impossibility of \ 

making acquisitions upon us, will not lightly ^ 

hazard the giving us provocation ; when we I 

may choose peace or war, as our interest, J 

guided by justice, shall counsel. i 
Why forego the advantages of so peculiar a 






WASHINGTON 'tt FAREWELL ADDRESS. 365 



situation ? Why quit our own to stand upou \ 

foreign ground ? Why, by interweaving our \ 

destiny with that of any part of Europe, en- \ 

tangle our peace and prosperity in the toils of ! 

European ambition, rivalship, interest, humor, \ 

or caprice ? ] 

Tt is our true policy to steer clear of perma- \ 

nent alliances with any portion of the foreign \ 

J world ; so far, I mean, as we are now at liberty \ 

\ to do it; for let me not be understood as capa- s 

\ ble of patronizing infidelity to existing engage- \ 

^ ments. I hold the maxim no less applicable to \ 

^ public than to private affairs, that honesty is \ 

J always the best policy. I repeat, therefore, let J 

\ those engagements be observed in their genuine \ 

^ sense. But, in my opinion, it is unnecessary, \ 

^ and would be unwise, to extend them. ? 

\ Taking care always to keep ourselves, by \ 

J suitable establishments, on a respectable defen- \ 

J sive posture, we may safely trust to temporary > 

\ alliances for extraordinary emergencies. \ 

} Harmony, and a liberal intercourse with all \ 

nations, are recommended by policy, humanity, \ 
, and interest. But even our commercial policy 

; should hold an equal and impartial hand; \ 

\ neither seeking nor granting exclusive favors \ 

\ or preferences; consulting the natural course \ 



I 8G6 Washington's farewell address. 



I of things; diiTusing and diversifying by gentle 

) means the stream of commerce, but forcinoj \ 

<• . ... . / 

j nothing; establishing with powers so disposed, s 

\ in order to give trade a stable course, to define i 

e the rights of our merchants, and to enable the \ 

? governmeiit to support them, conventional rules ) 

] of intercourse^ the best that present circum- ^ 

;! stances and natural opinion will permit, but ^ 

(' temporary, and liable to be, from time to time, J 

j abandoned or varied, as experience and circum- ) 

^f stances shall dictate; constantly keeping in ;. 

< view that it is folly in one nation to look for \ 

< disinterested favors from another; that it must 
J" pay with a portion of its independence for what- '^ 
\ ever it may accept under that character; that 
\ by such acceptance it may place itself in the 
^ condition of having given equivalents for nomi- 
nal favors, and yet of being reproached with 



) ingratitude for not giving more. There can be ^ 

^ no greater error than to expect or calculate upon ^ 



real favors from nation to nation. It is an illu- i 

sion which experience must cure, which a just j 

pride ought to discard. ) 

In offering to you, my countrymen, these ;! 

counsels of an old, affectionate friend, I dare \ 



not hope they will make the strong and lasting ^ 

impression I could wish — that they will control j 



< Washington's farewell address. 367 ; 

] the usual current of the passions, or prevent I 

^ our nation from runnio"; the course which has i 

'> hitherto marked the destiny of nations. But 5 

;, if I may even flatter myself that they may be j 

\ productive of some partial benefit, some occa- ^ 

^ sional good ; that they may now and then re- \ 

J cur to moderate the fury of party spirit; to ^ 

j warn against the mischiefs of foreign intrigue; s 

'< to guard against the impostures of pretended J 



patriotism ; this hope will be a full recompense 



< ' , . . . ^ , „ , \ . , s 



for the solicitude for your welfare by which 

s they have been dictated. "> 

< How far, in the discharge of my official du- J 

\ ties, I have been guided by the principles which '<■[ 

\ have been delineated, the public records and / 

(> other evidences of my conduct must witness ^ 

'< to you and to the world. To myself, the j 

\ assurance of ray own conscience is, that I J; 

? have at least believed myself to be guided by i 

j them. \ 

\ In relation to the still subsisting war in ^ 

j Europe, my proclamation of the 22d of April, ^ 

\ 1793, is the index to my plan. Sanctioned by J 

] your approving voice, and by that of your repre- )' 

^ sentatives in both houses of Congress, the spirit "> 

\ of that measure has continually governed me, I 



S68 Washington's farlwell address. 

uninfluenced by any attempt to deter or divert 

me from it. s 

After deliberate examination, with the aids i 

of the best lights I could obtain, I was well \ 

satisfied that our country, under all the circum- > 

stances of the case, had a right to take, and ;J 

was bound in duty and interest to take, a neu- s 

tral position. Having taken it, 1 determined, ^ 

as far as should depend upon me, to maintain ) 

it with moderation, perseverance, and firm- s 

ness.- J 

The considerations which respect the right to i 

hold this conduct, it is not necessary on this / 

occasion to detail. I will only observe, that, > 

according to my understanding of the matter, < 

that right, so far from being denied by any of ^ 

the belligerent powers, has been virtually ad- ? 

mitted by all. i 

The duty of holding a neutral conduct may \ 

be inferred, without anything more, from the ^ 

obligation which justice and humanity impose \ 

on every nation, in cases in which it is free to J 

^ act, to maintain inviolate the relations of peace j 

^ and amity towards other nations. J 

s' The inducements of interest for observing ? 

^ that conduct will be best referred to your own ^ 

\ reflections and experience. With me, a pre- 



Washington's farewell address. 869 J 

dominant motive has been to endeavor to gain J 

time to our country to settle and mature its yet i 

recent institutions, and to progress without in- \ 

terruption to that deo:ree of strength and con- \ 

stancy which is necessary to give it, humanly < 

speaking, the command of its own fortune. ^ 

Though, in reviewing the incidents of my ;• 

$ administration, I am unconscious of intentional j 

\ error, I am nevertheless, too sensible of my s 

^ defects not to think it probable that I may have i 

s committed many errors. Whatever they may ^ 

I be, I fervently beseech the Almighty to avert \ 

'^^ or mitigate the evils to which they may tend. 

5 I shall also carry with me the hope that my 

I country will never cease to view them with in- 

< dulgence ; and that, after forty-five years of my 

^ life dedicated to its service, with an upright 

> zeal, the faults of incompetent abilities will be J 

? consigned to oblivion, as myself must soon be i 

s to the mansions of rest. ? 

i Relying on its kindness in this as in other J 

I things, and actuated by that fervent love to- s 

Jl wards it, which is so natural to a man who < 

1 . . . . s 

i views in it the native soil of himself and his ) 



progenitors for several generations, — I antici- 
pate, with pleasing expectation, that retreat in 
which I promise myself to realize, without 



^ ^ 



WASHINGTON S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



alloy, the sweet enjoyment of parta]j:ing, in the 
midst of my fellow-citizens, the benign influ- 
ence of good laws under a free government — 
the ever favorite object of my heart, and the 
happy reward, as I trust, of our mutual cares, 
labors, and dangers. 






_.J 



BOOKS 
Published by G. G. Evans, 

439 Chestnut St., Philadelphia. 



T. S. ARTHUR'S WORKS. 

Tbo following Books are by T. S. Arthur, the well-known author, of whom 
it has been said, " that dying, he has not written a word he would wish to 
oraao." They are worthy of a place in every household. 

ARTHUR'S SKETCHES OF LIFE AND CHARACTER 

Royal 12mo. vol. of over 400 pages, beautifully Illustrated, and 
bound in the best English muslin, gilt. Price $1.25. 

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF REAL UFE. 

With an Autobiography and Portrait of the Author. Over 500 
pages. Royal 1*2 mc, fine tinted Engravings. Price $1.25. 

TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR-ROOM, and what I saw there. 

This powerfully-written work, one of the best by its popular 
AUTHOR, has met with an immense sale. It is a large i2mo., 
illustrated with a beautiful Mezzotint Engraving, by Sartain; 
printed on fine white paper, and bound in the best English 
muslin, gilt back. Price, li.oo. 

GOLDEN GRAINS FROM LIFE'S HARVEST-FIELD. 

Bound in gilt back and sides, cloth, with a beautiful Mezzotint 
engraving. l2mo. Price $1.00. 

WHAT CAN WOMAN DO. 

Iimo., with Mezzotint engraving. Price $1.00. 

" Our purpose is to show, in a series of Life Pictures, what woman coa do^ 
Afi ^»ell for good as for evil." 

ANGEL OF THE HOUSEHOLD, and otrer taies. 
Cloth, izmsK,, with Mezzotint engraving. Price $1.00. 



LIST OF BOOKS PU»LIShA> BY G. G. EVANS. 



ARTHUR'S HOME LIBRARY. 

[The following fonr volumes contain nearly 500 pages each, and are illae* 
tratcd with fine Mozzotiui enj^ravings. Bound in the best mannor, and 
pold separately or in sets. They have been introduced into the District, 
Sabbath School, and other Libraries, and are considered on© of the beat 
series of the Author.] 

THREE ERAS IN WOMAN'S LIFE. 

Containing Maiden, Wife and Mother. Cloth, i2mo., with Mez- 
zotint engraving. Price, $i.oo. 
"This, bj many, is considered Mr. Arthur's best work." 

TALES OF MARRIED LIFE. 

Containing Lovers and Husbands, Sweethearts and Wives, and 
Married and Single. Cloth, izmo., with Mezzotint engraving. 
Price $i.oo. 

"In this volume maybe found soma valuable hints for wires and hus- 
bands, as well as for the young." i 

TALES OF REAL LIFE. 

Containing Bell Martin, Pride and Principle, Mary vEllis, Family 
Pride and Alice Melville. Cloth, izmo., with Mezzotint 
engraving. Price $l,oo. 

" This volume gives the experience of real life by many who found not 
their ideal." 

THE MARTYR WIFE. 

Containing Madeline, the Heiress, The Martyr Wife and Ruined 
Gamestsr. Cloth, i 2mo., with Mezzotint engraving. $1.00 
"Contains several sketches of thrilling interest." 

THE ANGEL AND THE DEMOTvl. 

A Book of Starthng Interest. A handsome i2mo volume, $1.00. 

"In this exciting s*ory, Mr. Arthur has taken hold of the reader's attention 
with a more than usually vigorous grasp, and keeps him absorbed to the end 
of the volunre." 

THE WAY TO PROSPER, 

And other tales. Cloth, izmo., with engraving. Price $i.6« 
TRUE RICHES; or WEALTH WITHOUT WINGS, 

And other Tales. Cloth, i2mo., with Mezzotint engraving 
Prire, $1.00. 



LIST OP BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. 6. EVANS. ) 

THE YOUNG LADY AT HOME. 
A Series of Home Stories for American Women. izmo. $i.oo 

TRIALS AND CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

Wjch 14 Spirited Illustrations. izmo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 

The range of subjects in this book embrace the grave and instructive, M 
T»«l as the agreeable and amusing. No Lady reader familiar with the trials 
and perplexities incident to Housekeeping, can fail to recognize many of her 
own experiences, for every picture here presented has been drawn from life. 

THE WITHERED HEART. 

With fine Mezzotint Frontispiece, izmo.. Cloth. Price $i.oo. 

This work has gone through several editions in England, although pub- 
lished but a short time, and has had the most flattering notices from tho 
English Press. 

STEPS TOWARD HEAVEN. 

A Series of Lay Sermons for Converts in the Great Awakening, 
izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

THE HAND BUT NOT THE HEART; 
Or, Life Trials of Jessie Loring. izmo., cloth. Price, $1.00. 

THE GOOD TIME COMING. 
Large izmo.," with fine Mezzotint Frontispiece. Price, $1.00. 

LEAVES FROM THE BOOK OF HUMAN LIFE. 

Large izmo. With 30 illustrations and steel plate. Price $1.00. 
"It includes some of the best humorous sketches of the author." 

HEART HISTORIES AND LIFE PICTURES. 

izmo Cloth. Price $1.00. 

• In the preparation of this volume, we have endeavored to show, tb«t 
whatever tends to awaken our sympathies towards others, is an individual 
benefit as well as a common good." 

SPARING TO SPEND; or, the Loftons and Pinkertons 

izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

The purpose of this volume is to exhibit the evils that flow torn ♦iio to« 
oommun lack of prudence. 



4. LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISFED* BY G. G. EVANS. 

HOME SCENES. 
l2mo. Cloth. Price $i.oo. 

This Book is designed to aid in the work of overcoming what is evil and 
■elfish, that home lights may dispel home shadows. 

THE OLD MAN'S BRIDE. 

l2mo. Cloth. Price $i.oo. 
This is a powerfully written Book, showing the folly of unequal marriages. 

ADVICE TO YOUNG LADIES ON THEIR DUTIES AND 

CONDUCT IN LIFE. 
By T. S. Arthur. A new and greatly enlarged edition. i2mo., 
cloth. Steel plate. Price $i.oo. 

ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN ON VARIOUS IMPORTANT 

SUBJECTS. 
By T. S. Arthur. A new and greatly enlarged edition. 1 2mo. 
cloth. Steel plate. Price $i.oo. 

TWENTY YEARS AGO AND NOW. 
By T. S. Arthur. i2mo., cloth, mezzotint engraving. Price 
$i.oo 

BIOGRAPHIES. 

LIFE AND EXPLORATIONS OF DR. E. K. KANE, 
And other Distinguished American Explorers. Including Ledyard. 
Wilkes, Perry, &c. Containing narratives of their researches 
and adventures in remote and interesting portions of the Globe. 
By Samuel M. Smucker, LL.D. With a fine Mezzotint Por- 
trait of Dr. Kane, in his Arctic costume. Price $l.oo. 

THE LIFE AND REIGN OF NICHOLAS L, 
Emperor of Russia. With descriptions of Russian Society and 
Government, and a full and complete History of the War in 
the East. Also, Sketches of Schamyl, the Circassian, an other 
Distinguished Characters. ByS. M. Smucker, LL.D. Beautifully 
Illustrated. Over 400 pages, large i2mo. Price $1.25. 

THE PUBLIC AND PRIVATE LIFE OF DAN'L WEBSTER 
Bv Gen. S. P. Lyman. i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



THE MASTER SPIRIT OF THE AGE. 

THE PUBLIC AND PRIVATE HISTORY OF NAPOLEON 
THE THIRD. 

With Biographical Notices of his most Distinguished Ministers, 
Generals and Favorites. By S. M. Smucker, LL.D. This in- 
teresting and valuable work is embellished with splendid stee) 
plates, done by Sartain in his best style, including the Emperor, 
the Empress, Queen Hortense, and the Countess Castiglione. 
400 pages, i2mo. Price $1.25. 

MEMOIRS OF ROBERT HOUDIN, 

The celebrated French Conjuror. Translated from the French. 
With a copious Index. By Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie. This 
book is full of interesting and entertaining anecdotes of the great 
Wizard, and gives descriptions of the manner of performing 
many of his most curious tricks and transformations. i2mo., 
cloth. Priced 1. 00. 

LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF DAVID CROCKETT. 

Written by himself, with Notes and Additions. Splendidly illus- 
trated with engravings, from original designs. By George G 
White. i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

LIFE AND TIMES OF DANIEL BOONE. 

Including an account of the Early Settlements of Kentucky. By 
Cecil B. Hartley. With splendid illustrations, from original 
drawings by George G. White. i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF LEWIS WETZEL. 
Together with Biographical Sketches of Simon Kenton, Benjamin 
Logan, Samuel Brady, Isaac Shelby, and other distinguished 
Warriors and Hunters of the West. By Cecil B. Hartley. 
With splendid illustrations, from original drawings by George 
G. White. i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. ' 

LIFE AND TIMES OF GENERAL FRANCIS MARION, 

The Hero of the American Revolution ; giving full accounts oi 

his many perilous adventures and hair-breadth escapes amongst 

the British and Tories in the Southern States, during the struggle 

for liberty. By W. Gilmore Simms. i2mo., cloth. $1.00. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED bV G. G. EVANS. 



LIFE OF GENERAL SAMUEL HOUSTON, 

TiSe Hunter, Patriot, and Statesman of Texas. With nine illu- 
trations. izmo*, cloth. Price $i.oo. 

LIVES OF GENERAL HENRY LEE AND GENERAL 
THOMAS SUMPTER. 

Comprising a History of the War in the Southern Department of 
the United States. Illustrated, izmo, cloth. Si.oo. 

DARING & HEROIC DEEDS OF AMERICAN WOMEN. 

Comprising Thrilling Examples of Courage, Fortitude, Devoted- 
ness, and Self-Sacrifice, among the Pioneer Mothers o^ the 
Western Country. By John Frost, LL.D. Price $1.00. 

LIVES OF FEMALE MORMONS. 

A. Narrative of facts Stranger than Fiction. By Metta Victoria 
Fuller, izmo., cloth. Price |i. 00. 

LIVES OF ILLUSTRIOUS WOMEN OF ALL AGES. 

Containing tne Empress Josephine, Lady Jane Gray, Bea^rict 
Cenci, Joan of Arc, Anne Boleyn, Charlotte Corday, Zcnobia, 
&c., &c. Embellished with Fine Steel Portraits, izmo., chth. 
Price $1.00. 

THE LIVES AND EXPLOITS OF THE MOST NOTED 
BUCCANEERS & PIRATES OF ALL COUNTRIES. 

Handsomely illustrated. 1 vol. Cloth. Price $1.00. 

HIGHWAYMEN, ROBBERS AND BANDITTI OF ALL 
COUNTRIES. 

With Colored and other Engravings. Handsomely bound in one 
volume, izmo., "cloth. Price $1.00. 

HEROES AND PATRIOTS OF THE SOUTH; 

CDmprising Lives of General Francis Marion, General William 
Moultrie, General Andrew Pickens, and Governor John 
Rutledge. By Cecil B. Hartley. Illustrated, izmo., cloth. 
Price $1.00. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS, 



KIT CARSON. 

Life of Christopher Carson, the celebrated Rocky Mountain 
Huntei, Trapper and Gui(Je, with a full description of his 
Hunting Exploits, Hair-breadth Escapes, and advcniures with 
the Indians; together with his services rendered the United 
States Government, as Guide to the various Exploring Expedi- 
tions under Jjhn C. Fremont and others. By Charles^Burdett. 
Wjth six illustrations. i2mo., cloth. Price ^i.oo. 

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
By S. M. Smucker, LL.D., author of " The Life of Thomas 

Jefferson," "Life of Alexander Hamilton," etc., etc. i2mo., 

cloth, with Steel Portrait. Price $1.00. 

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF HENRY CLAY. 
By S. M. Smucker, LL.D., author of the "Lives of Washington," 
"Jefferson," etc. i zmo., cloth. Steel Portrait. Price $1.00.' 

LIFE OF ANDREW JACKSON. 
Containing an Authentic History of the Memorable Achievements 
of the American Army under General Jackson, before New 
Orleans. By Alexander Walker, i zmo., cloth. Price Si. 00. 

LIFE OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

By O. L. HoLLEY. With Steel Portrait and six Illustrations. 
i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

LIVES OF THE SIGNERS OF THE DECLARATION OF 
AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE. 

By B J. LossiNG. Steel Frontispiece, and fifty portraits. izmo., 
cloth. Price 3i.oo. 

LIFE OF CAPT. JOHN SMITH OF VIRGINIA. 
By W. Gillmore SiMMi. Illustrated, izmo., cloth. Price, $1 00 

THE THREE MRS. JUDSONS, 
The Female Missionaries. By Cecil B. Hartley. A new and 
carefully revised edition, with steel portraits, izmo. Price 
$1 00. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVAN3. 



INGRAHAM'S THREE GREAT WORKS. 



THE 

Prince of the House of David; 

Or, Three Years in the Holy City. Being a series of the let- 
ters of Adina, a Jewess of Alexandria, supposed to be sojourning 
in Jerusalem in the days of Herod, addressed to her Father a 
wealthy Jew in Egypt, and relating, as if by an eye-witness, all 
the scenes and wonderful incidents in the life of Jesus of Naz- 
areth, from his Baptism in Jordan to his Crucifixion on Calvary 
New edition, carefully revised and corrected by the author. 
Rev. J. H. Ingraham, LL.D., Rector of Christ Church, and 
St. Thomas' Hall, Holly Springs, Miss. With five splendid 
illustrations, one large izmo., volume, cloth. Price, $i 25. 
Full Gilt sides and edges. Price ^2.00. 
The same work in German. i2mo., cloth. Price, $1.25. 

THE PILLAR OF FIRE; 

Or, Israel in Bondage. Being an account of the Wonderful 
Scenes in the Life of the Son of Pharaoh's Daughter, (Moses). 
Together with Picturesque Sketches of the Hebrews under their 
Task-masters. By Rev. j. H. Ingraham, LL D., author of the 
" Prince of the House of David." With steel Frontispiece. 
Large izmo., cloth. Price, $1 35; the same work, full gilt 
sides and edges. Price, $2 00. 

THE THRONE OF DAVID; 

P'om the Consecration of the Shepherd of Bethlehem, to the Re- 
. bellionof Prince x'\bsalom. Being an illustration of the Splendor, 
Power and Dominion of the Reign of the Shepherd, Poet, 
Warrior, King and Prophet, Ancestor and type of Jesus, address- 
ed by an Assyrian Ambassador, resident at the Court of Jeru- 
salem, to his Lord and King on the Throne of Nineveh; where- 
in the magnificence of Assyria, as well as the magnificence of 
Judea, is presented to the reader as by an eye-witness. By the 
Rev. J. H. Ingraham, LL.D., Rector of Christ Church and 
St. Thomas' Hall, Holly Springs, Miss., author of the " Prince 
of the House of David" and the " Pillar of Fire." With five 
splendid illustrations. Large izmo., cloth. Price $l 25; the 
same work, full gilt sides and edges. Price, $2 00. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



The Sunny South ; 



OR, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME 



EMBRACING 



Five years' experience of a Northern Governess in the Land of the 
Sugar and the Cotton. Edited by Professor J. H. Ingraham, 
of Miss. Large izmo., cloth. Price, $i 25. 



A BUDGET OF 

HUMOROUS POETRY, 



comprising 



Specimens of the best and most Humorous Productions of the 
popular American and Foreign Poetical Writers of the day. 
By the author of the " Book of Anecdotes and Budget of 
Fun." One volum.e, i2mo., cloth. Price $1 00. 



The World in a Pocket Book. 

BY 

WILLIAM H. CRUMP. 

NEW AND REVISED EDITION, BROUGHT DOWN TO 

i860. 

This work is a Compendium of Useful Knowledge and General 
Reference, dedicated to the Manufacturers, Farmers, Merchants, 
and Mechanics of the United States — to all, in short, with whom 
time is money — and whose business avocations render the acqui- 
sition of extensive and diversified information desirable, by the 
shortest possible road. This volume, it is hoped, will be found 
worthy of a place in every household — in every family. It 
may indeed be termed a library in itself. Large i2mo. Price, 
§1 2iJ. 



to LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 

THE SPIRIT LAND. 
l2mo., cloth, with Mezzotint Engraving. Price ^i.oo. 

" These pages are enbmitted to the public with the counsel of the wisMt 
and best of all ages, that amid the wiley arts of the Adversary, we should cling 
to the word of God, the Bible, as the only safe and infallible guide of Eaiih 
and Practice." 

THE MORNING STAR ; or. Symbols of Christ. 

By Re\ Wm. M. Thayer, author of " Hints for the" Household," 
" Pastor's Holiday Gift," &c., &c. i zmo., cloth. Price $ i .00 

" The symbolical parts of Scriptures are invested with peculiar attractions. 
A familiar acquaintanc* with them can scarcely fail to increase respect and 
love for the Bible." 

SWEET HOME ; or. Friendship's Golden Altar. 

By Frances C. Percival. Mezzotint Frontispiece, i2mo., cloth, 
gilt back and centre. Price $1.00. 

"The object of this book is to awaken the Memories of Home — to remind 
as of the old Scenes and old Times." 

THE DESERTED FAMILY ; 

Or, the Wanderings of an Outcast. By Paul Creyton. i zmo., 
cloth. Price $1.00. 

"An interesting story, which might exert a good influence in softening th« 
heart, warming the affections, and elevating the soul." 

ANNA CLAYTON; or, the Mother's Trial. 
A Tale of Real Life, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

" The principal characters in this tale are drawn from real life — imagina- 
tion cannot picture deeper shades uf sadness, higher or more exquisite joys, 
than Truth has woven for us, in the Mother's Trial." 

« FASHIONABLE DISSIPATION." 

Bj Metta V. Fuller. Mezzotint Frontispiece, izmo., bound in 
cloth. Price $1.00. 

THE OLD FARM HOUSE. 

By Mrs. Caroline H. Butler Laing, with six splendid Illustra- 
tions. I zmo., cloth. Price fi.co. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY O. G. EVANS. 



" TO THE PURE ALL THINGS ARE PURE." 

WOMAN AND HER DISEASES. 

From the Cradle to the Grave ; adapted exclusively to her instrnc- 
cion in the Physiology of her system, and all the Diseases of her 
Critical Periods. By Edward H. Dixon, M.D. i2mo. Price 
$i.oo. 

DR. LIVINGSTONE'S TRAVELS AND RESEARCHES 
OF SIXTEEN YEARS IN THE WILDS OF SOUTH 
AFRICA. 

One volume, izmo., cloth, fine edition, printed upon superior 
paper, with numerous illustrations. Price $1.25. Cheap edi- 
tion, price $1.00. 

This is a work of thrilling adventures and hair-breadth escapes among 
savage beasts, and more savage men. Dr. Livingstone was alone, and unaid- 
ed by any white man, traveling only with African attendants, among different 
tribes aad nations, all strange to him, and many of them hostile, and alto- 
gether forming the most astonishing book of travels the world has e^ar 
eeen. Ail acknowledge it is the most readable book published. 

ANDERSSON'S EXPLORATIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 

Giving accounts of many Pp»-ilous Adventures, and Thrilling Inci- 
dents, during Four Years' Wanderings in the Wilds of South 
Western Africa. By C. J. Andersson, LL.D., F.R.S. With 
an Introductory Letter, by J. C. Fremont. One volume, izmo., 
cloth. With Numerous Illustrations, Price, $1.25. 

INDIA AND THE INDIAN MUTINY. 
Comprising a Complete History of Hindoostan, from the earliest 
times to the present day, with full particulars of the Recent 
Mutiny m India. Illustrated with numerous engravings. By 
Henry Frederick Malcom. Large i2mo., volume of about 
450 pages. Price, $1.2 5fc 

THE UNION TEXT BOOK. 
Containing Selections -from the Writings and Speeches of 
Daniel Webster. The .Declaration of Independence, the 
Constitution of the United States, Washington's Farewell Ad- 
dress, Sec, with Steel Portrait. Large i2mo., 904 pages. Cloth. 
Price, $1.00. 



12 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED, BY G. G. EVANS. 



SEVEN YEARS IN THE WILDS OF SIBERIA, 

A Narrative of Seven Years' Explorations and Adventures in 
Oriental and Western Siberia, Mongolia, the Kir his Stepj^es, 
Chinese Tartary, and Part of Central Asia. By Thomas 
William Atkinson. With numerous Illustrations, i zmo., clc th, 
price $1.25. 

SIX YEARS IN NORTHERN AND CENTRAL AFRICA. 

Travels and Discoveries in North and Central Africa, being a 
Journal of an Expedition undertaken undei the auspices of 
H. B. M.'s Government, in the years 1849-1855. By Henrt 
Barth, Ph. D., D.C.L., Fellow of the Royal Geographical and 
Asiatic Societies, See, &c. izmo., cloth, price §1.25. 

THREE VISITS TO MADAGASCAR 

During the years 1853, 1854, 1856, including a journey to the 
Capital ; with notices of the Natural History of the Country 
and of the present Civilization of the People, by the Rev. Wm. 
Ellis, F.H.S., author of "Polynesian Researches." Illustrated 
by engravings from photographs, &c. i 2mo., cloth. $1 25. 

CAPT. COOK'S VOYAGES ROUND THE WORLD. 
One volume, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

BOOK OF ANECDOTES AND BUDGET OF FUN. 

Containing a collection of over One Thousand Laughable Sayings, 
Rich Jokes, etc. i2mo., cloth, extra gilt back, $1.00. 

" Nothing is so well calculated to preserve the healthful action of th« 
human system as a good hearty laugh." 

# 

BOOK OF PLAYS FOR HOME AMUSEMENT. 

Being a collection of Original, Altered and well-selected Tragedies, 
Comedies, Dramas, Farces, Burlesques, Charades, Comic Lec- 
tures, etc. Carefully arranged and specially adapted for Private 
Representation, with full directions for Performance. By Silas 
S. Steele, Dramatist. One volume, 1 2mo., cloth. Price $ i .00. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. I J 



A HISTORY OF ITALY, 

AND THE WAR OF 1859. 

Giving the causes of the War, with Biographical Sketches of Sov- 
eieigns. Statesmen and Military Commanders; Descriptions and 
Statistics of the Country ; with fmely engraved Portraits of Louis 
Napoleon, Emperor of France Frances Joseph, Emperor of 
Austria ; Victor Emanuel, King of Sardinia, and Garribaldi, the 
Champion of Italian Freedom. Together with the official ac- 
counts of the Battles of Montebello, Palestro, Magenta, Malcg- 
nano, Solferino, etc., etc., and Maps of Italy, Austria, and ail 
the adjacent Countries, by 

MADAME JULIE DE MARGUERITTES. 

With an introduction by Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie, one volume, 
i2mo., cloth, price $1.25. 

NOBLE DEEDS OF THE GREAT AND BRAVE OF ALL 
AGES AND NATIONS. 

Selected as examples for the emulation of Youth, with numerous 
Illustrations, izmo.. Cloth, Gilt Back. Price, ^i.oo. 

THE BOOK OF POPULAR SONGS. 

Being a compendium of the best Sentimental, Comic, Negro, Nation- 
al, Patriotic, Military, Naval, Social, Convivial, and Pathetic 
Ballads and Melodies, as sung by the most celebrated Opeia 
Singers, Negro Minstrels, and Comic Vocalists of the day. 

One volume, i2mo., cloth. Price $1 00. 

THE AMERICAN PRACTICAL COOKERY BOOK; 

Or. Housekeeping made easy, pleasant, and cconmical in all its 
departments. To which are added directions for setting out 
Tables, and giving Entertainments. Directions for ^-Jointing, 
Trussing, and Carving, and many hundred new Receipts in 
Cookery and Housekeeping. With 50 engravings, izmo., 
doth. Price $1.00. 



1^ LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED ^BY G. G. EVANS. 



RECORDS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 

Containing the Military and Financial Correspondence of distin- 
guished officers; names of the officers and privates of regiments, 
companies and corps, with the dates of their commissions and 
enlistments. General orders of Washington, Lee, and Green ; 
with a list of distinguished prisoners of war ; the time of their 
capture, exchange, etc. ; to which is added the half-pay acts of 
the Continental Congress ; the Revolutionary pension laws ; and 
a list of the officers of the Continental army who acquired tha 
right to half-pay, commutation, and lands, &c. By T. W. Saf- 
FELL. Large i2mo., $1.25. 

THE ROMANCE OF THE REVOLUTION. 

being a history of the personal adventures, romantic incidents and 
exploits incidental to the War of Independence — with tinted 
illustrations. Large izmo., $1.25. 

THE QUEEN'S FATE. 

A tale of the days of Herod. i2mo., cloth, with Steel Illustra- 
tions. $1.00. 

"A recital of events, of an awe-arousing period, in a familiar and interest- 
ing manner." 

"LIVING AND LOVING." 

A collection of Sketches. By Miss Virginia F. Townsend.^ 
Large i2mo., with fine steel portrait of the author. Bound in 
cloth. Price $1.00. 

We might say many things in favor of this delightful publication, but w« 
deem it unnecessary. Husbands should buy it for their wives : lovers should 
buy it for their sweet-hearts : friends should buy it for their friends. — Godey^S 
Lady^a Book, 

WHILE IT WAS MORNING. 

By Virginia F. Townsend, author of " Living and Loving." 
i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

THE ANGEL VISITOR ; or. Voices of the Heart. 
(2mo., cloth, with Mezzotint Engraving. Price $1.00. 
" The mission of this volume is to aid in doing good to those in afflictiaa.* 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. C. EVANS. 1 5 



THE LADIES' HAND BOOK 



Fancy and Ornamental Needle-Work. 

COMPRISING 

Fu]] directions with patterns for working in Embroidery, Appllqu?, 
Braiding, Crochet, Knitting, Netting, Tatting, Quilting, Tam- 
bour aud Gobelin Tapestry, Broderie Anglaise, Guipure Work, 
Canvass Work, Worsted Work, Lace Work, Bead Work, 
Stitching, Patch Work, Frivohte, &c. Illustrated with 262 
Engraved Patterns, taken .from original designs. By Miss 
Florence Hartley. One volume. Quarto Cloth. Price, 
$1 25. 



The Ladies' Book of Etiquette, 

AND 

MANUAL OF POLITENESS. 



A Hand Book for the use of Ladies in Polite Society. By 
Florence Hartley. i2mo., cloth. Price, $1 00. 



The Gentlemen's Book of Etiquette, 



MANUAL OF POLITENESS. 



Being a Complete Guide for a Gentleman's Conduct in all his 
relations toward Society. By Cecil B. Hartley. i2mo. 
Price, $1 00 



l6 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 

LECTURES FOR THE PEOPLE: 

BY THE 

Rev. H. STOWELL BROWN, 

Of the MyrtU Street Baptist Chapel^ Liverpool^ England. 

First Series, published under a special arrangement with the author. 
With a Biographical introduction by Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie, 
With a splendidly engraved Steel Portrait. One vol., 414 pages. 
i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

Mr, Brown'g lectures fill an important place, for which we hare no other 
book. The style is clear, the spirit is kind, the reasoning careful, and the 
arjiument conclusive. We are persuaded that this book will render mora 
good than any book of sermons or lectures that have been published in this 
19th century. — Liverpool Mercury. 

THE HOME BOOK OF HEALTH AND MEDICINE; 

Or, The Laws and Means of Physical Culture, adapted to 
practical use. Embracing a treatise on Dyspepsia, Digestion, 
Breathing, Ventilation, Laws of the Skin, Consumption, how 
prevented; Clothing, Food, Exercise, Rest, &c. By W. A. 
Alcott, M. D. With ^i illustrations. Large i2mo. Price, 
$1.25. 

LIFE OF THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE, 

First Wife of Napoleon I. Illustrated with Steel Portraits. •By 
J. T. Laurens, author of "Heroes and Patriots of the South." 
i2mo. cloth. Price, $1.00. 

LIVES OF THE HEROES OF THE AMERICAN 
REVOLUTION. 

Comprising the Lives of Washington and his Generals. The 
Dedaration of Independence. The Constitution of the United 
States. The Inaugural, First Annual . and Farewell Addresses 
of Washington. With Portraits. i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00 

COLUMBA; A Tale of Corsica. 

By Prosper Merimee. As a picture of Corsican life and manners, 

Coiumba is unequalled. In one handsome volume. Price $1.00 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 17 

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF A PASTOR'S LIFE. 
By S. H. Elliott. One volume, i2mo., cloth. Price $i.oo 

" This is a well-written, highly instructive book. It is a story of the life 
teachings, and life-trials of a good man, whose great aim was to elevate, 
morally and intellectually, his fellow-men. Like many of his nature and 
temperament, some of his views were Utopian. But his succ(i.<ses and 
failures, with the causes of these, are painted wiih a masterly hand. There 
is unusual strength amd vitality in this volume." 

THREE PER CENT. A MONTH; 

Or, the Perils of Fast Living. A Warning to Young Men. 
By Chas. BuRDETT. One volume, 1 2mo., cloth. Price $i. 60. 

"The style of this book is direct and effective, particularly fitting the 
impression which such a story should make. It is a very j-pirited and in- 
Btructive tale, leaving a good impression both upon the reader's sensibilities 
and morals." 

EVENINGS AT HOME; 

Or, Tales for the Fireside. By Jane C. Campbell. One 
volume, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

" We know of no book in the whole range of modem fictitious literature 
we would sooner select for a delightful and instructive companion." 

RURAL LIFE; 

Or, Prose and Poetry of the Woods and Fields. By Harry 
Penciller. One volume, cloth, izmo. Price $1.00. 

"Beautiful landscapes, family scenes and conversations, rural sketches of 
woods and vales, of the beauties of verdant fields and fragrant flowers, of 
the music of birds and running brooks, all described in an original and un- 
studied manner, which cannot fail to delight every one whose characttr is 
imbued with a love of nature." 

JOYS AND SORROWS OF HOME; 

An Autobiography. By Anna Leland. One volume, izmo. 
cloth. Price $1.00 ^' 

"This is one of the most beautiful domestic stories we have ever read, 
Intensely irtereating, with a natural flow and easiness which leads the reador 
Imperceptibly on to the close, and then leaves a regret that the tale is uone." 



1 8 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



BEAUTY OF WOMAN'S FAITH; 
A Tale of Southern Life. One volume, izmc, cloth. Price 

$1 00. 

** This volume contains the story of a French Emigrant, who first escaped 
to England, and afterward settled on a plantation in Louisiana. It is charm- 
ingly told; and the strength and endurance of woman's faith well illustrated.** 

THE ORPHAN BOY; 

Or, Lights and Shadows of Northern Life. By Jeremy Loud. 
One volume, izmo., cloth. ' Price ^i.oo. 

"This is a work illustrating the passions and pleasures, the trials and tri- 
umphs of common life; it is well written and the interest is admirably sus- 
tained." 

THE ORPHAN GIRLS; 

A Tale of Life in the South. By James S. Peacock, M.D.^ 
of Mississippi. One volume, izmo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 

"The style is fluent and unforced, the description of character well limned, 
and the pictures of scenery forcible and felicitous. There is a natural con- 
veyance of incidents to the denouement, and the reader closes the volume with 
an increased regard for the talent and spirit of the author." 

NEW ENGLAND BOYS; 

Or, the Three Apprentices. By A. L. Stimson. One volume, 
i2mo.. Cloth. Price $i oo. 

" This is a very agreeable book, written in a dashing independent style. The 
incidents are numerous and striking, the characters life-like, and the plot 
sufficiently captivating to enchain the reader's attention to the end of the 
volume." 

THE KING'S ADVOCATE; 

Or, the Adventures of a Witch Finder. One volume, i zrao., 
cloth. Price $i.oo. 

"This is a book so thoroughly excellent, so exalted in its character, so full 
of exquisite pictures of society, and manifesting so much genius, skill, and 
knowledge of human nature, that no one can possibly read it without admit- 
ting it to be, in every way, a noble book. The story, too, is one of stirring 
interest; and it either sweeps you along with its powerful spell, or beguiles 
you with its tenderness, pathos and geniality." 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY O, G. EVAN3. IQ 

SIBYL MONROE; or, THE FORGER'S DAUGHTER. 
By Martha Russell. One volume, i2mo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 

" It is a spirited, charming story, full of adventure, friendship and loye, with 
oharacters nicely drawn and carefully discriminated. The clear style and 
Epirit with which the story is presented and the characters developed, will 
attract a large constituency to the perusal." 

THE OPEN BIBLE; 

As shown in the History of Christianity, from the time of our 
Saviour to the Present Day. By Vincent W. Millner. With' 
a view of the latest developments of Rome's hostility to the 
Bible, as exhibited in the Sandwich Islands, in Tuscany, in 

■ Ireland, France, &c., and an expose of the absurdities of the 
Immaculate Conception, and the Idolatrous Veneration of the 
Virgin Mary. By Rev. Joseph F. Berg, D. D., author of 
"The Jesuits," "Church and State," &c., &c. Illustrated with 
numerous Engravings, izmo., cloth, gilt back. Price $i.oo. 

LIFE OF CHRIST AND HIS APOSTLES. 

By the Rev. John Fleetwood. With a History of the Jews, from 
the Earliest Period to the Present Time. Large izmo., bound 
in Cloth. Illustrated. Price $i.oo. 
Octavo edition, with steel' engravings. Turkey Antique, $3.50. 

BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 

Including, "Grace abounding to the Chief of Sinners." Large 
I zmo., 500 pages. Cloth. Beautifully Illustrated. Pricc$i.oo. 
Octavo edition, with steel engravings. Turkey Antique, $3.50. 

SCRIPTURE EMBLEMS AND ALLEGORIES. 

Being a series of Emblematic Engravings, with explanations and 
religious reflections, designed to illustrate Divine Truth. By 
Rev, W. Holmes, izmo., cloth. Price $i.z5. 

HOME MEMORIES- 
Or, Social half hours with the Household. 

Octavo, 400 pages. Illustrated with fine stee^ plates. Cloth, 
Price $z.oo. Turkey Antique, $3.50. 



to LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 

EVANS' POPULAR SPEAKER, 

Lyceum and School Exhibition Declaimer. 

Comprising a Treatise on Elocution and Gesture, with Illustrations, 
and a choice collection of pieces in Prose and Verse, and selec 
Dialogues, specially adapted for School and Lyceum Exhibitions, 
and Private Representations. i2mo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 

.iPANORAMA OF THE OLD WORLD AND THE NEW; 

Comprising a view of the present state of the Nations of the World, 
their Names, Customs and Peculiarities, and their Political, 
Moral, Social and Industrial Condition. Interspersed with 
Historical Sketches and Anecdotes. By William Pinncck, 
author of the Histories of England, Greece and Rome. Enlarged, 
revised and embellished with several hundred Engravings, 
including twenty- four finely colored Plates, from designs by 
Croome, Devereux, and other distinguished artists. In one vol. 
Octavo, over 600 pages, bound in embossed morocco, gilt back. 
Price $2.75. 

THRILLING INCIDENTS IN AMERICAN HISTORY. 

P»dng a selection of the most important and interesting events which 
have transpired since the discovery of America to the present 
time. Compiled from the most approved authorities, new edition 
enlarged. Splendidly illustrated, 12 mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

THE HOLY LAND, AND EGYPT, ARABIA PETR^A, &c. 

Travels in Egypt, Arabia Petrrea, and the Holy Land. By D. 
Millard. A new and improved edition. Illustrated. i2mo., 
cloth. Price $100. 

HUNTING SCENES IN THE WILDS OF AFRICA. 

Comprising the Thrilling Adventures of Gumming, Harris, and 
other daring Hunters of Lions, Elephants, Giraffes, Buffaloes, 
and other Animals. With Illustrations. l2mo., cloth. GiU 
back. Price $1.00. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 0. O. EVANS. »t 

THE BATTLE FIELDS OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Comprising descriptions of the Different Battles, Sieges, and other 
Events of the War of Independence. Interspersed with Chiif- 
actcristic i\necdotes. Illustrated with numerous Engravings, 
and a fine Mezzotint Frontispiece. By Thomas Y. Rhoads, 
Large 1 2mo., cloth. Price $1.25. 

PERILS AND PLEASURES OF A HUNTER'S LIFE. 

With fine colored plates. Large i2mo., cloth. Price $1.25. 
From the table of contents we take the following as samples of 
the style and interest of the work : 

Baiting for an Alligator — Morning among the Rocky Moun- 
tains — Encounter with Shoshonees — A Grizzly Bear — Fight 
and terrible result — Fire on the Mountains — Narrow Escape 
—The Beaver Region — Trapping Beaver — A Journey and 
Hunt through New Mexico — Start for South America — Hunt- 
ing in the Forests of Brazil — Hunting on the Pampas — A Hunt- 
ing Expedition into the interior of Africa. 

PETERSON'S FAMILIAR SCIENCE; 
Or, the Scientific Explanation of Common Things. E<^ited 
by R. E. Peterson, Member of Academy of Natural Sciences 
Philadelphia. The object of this book is to explain scientifi.- 
cally, but in the simplest language, over two thousand questions 
of the commonest phenomena of life. Best edition, i2mo. 
Embossed Backs. Price, $1.00. 

THRILLING ADVENTURES AMONG THE INDIANS. 

By John Frost, LL.D. Comprising the most remarkable Personal 
Narratives of Events in the Early Indian Wars, as well as of 
Incidents in the recent Indian Hostilities in Mexico and Texas. 
Illustrated with over 300 engravings, from designs by W. Croome, 
and other distinguished artists. It contains over 500 pages. 
l2mo., cloth. Gilt back, $1.25. 

PIONEER LIFE IN THE WEST. 

Comprising the Adventures of Boone, Kenton, Brady, Clarke, the 
Whetzels, and others, in their Fierce Encounters with the 
Indians. With Illustrations, i2mo., cloth. Gilt back. Price 
$i.oc. 



22 LIST (IF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY O. G. EVANS. 



McCULLOUGH'S TEXAN RANGERS. 

Tlie Scouting Expedition of McCullough's Texan Rangers, inclu- 
ding Skirmishes with the Mexicans, and an accurate detail of 
the Storming of Monterey, &c., with Anecdotes, Incidents and 
Description of the Country, and Sketches of the lives of Hays, 
McCullough and Walker. By S. C. Reid, Jr., of Louisiana, late 
ot the Texan Rangers. i2mo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 

THE DOOMED CHIEF. 

Or, Two Hundred Years Ago. A Narrative of the Earliest 
Border Warfare. By D. B. Thompson, author of *' Gaut 
Gurlcy," &c. l2mo., cloth. Ii.oo. 

HUNTING SPORTS IN THE WEST. 

Containing Adventures of the most celebrated Hunters and Trap- 
pers of the West. Illustrated with new designs, izmo., cloth. 
$i.oo. 

GAUT GURLEY ; 

Or, THE Trappers of Umbagog. A Tale of Border Life. By D- 
B. Thompson, author of " The Rangers ; or, the Tory's Daugh- 
ter," *' Green Mountain Boys," &c. i2mo., cloth. Price $i oo. 

THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A SOUTHERN MATRON. 

By Mrs. Caroline GiLxMan, of South Carolina. i2mo., cloth. 

Price $1.00. 

"This volume is one of those books which are read by all classes at all 
fitagea of life, with an interest which looses nothing by change or circum- 
Btances." 

THE ENCHANTED BEAUTY. 

And other Tales and Essays. By Dr. Wm. Elder. i2mo., 

cloth. Price $i 1. 00. 

** This is a volume of beautiful and cogent essays, virtuous in motive, simpl« 
in expression, pertinent and admirable in logic, and glorious in conclusion 
aod climax." 

THE CHILD'S FAIRY BOOK. 

By Spencer W. Cone. Containing a choice collection of beauti- 
ful Fairy Tales. Illustrated with Ten Beautiful Engravings, 
Spiendidh Colored, izmo., cloth. Price $1. 00. 



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